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Gift of 



:z*j3n =s3i = .^-* ^~ 

T*"^ '■■ ■! U ■ >■ !■■ ■■ 
















HonHon : 


stationers' court. 









Encouraged by the condesceiid«- 
mg* and beneyolent regard which your Majesty udU 
formly manifests for the welfare of all classes of the 
subjects of these favoured realms, not only in the 
g^and outline of national advantages, but also in the. 
humbler details of domestic life, the Author of this 
little Manual, in its eighth edition, begs permission, 
with most profound respect, to dedicate it to your 
Majesty, as an expression of dutiful and loyal attach- 
ment, and with the anticipation of obtaining for the 
Work a more extensive degree of acceptance and use- 
iulness, under the auspices of a Queen who is herself a 
pattern of conjugal and domestic virtue. 


That yoar Majesty, together with our illustrious 
and beloved Soyereign, may long reign oyer an en* 
lightened, a virtuous, a loyal and a happy people ; and 
at a very distant period, through the merits of our Re« 
de^er, exchange an earthly for a heavenly crown, 
is the fervent prayer of, 


Your Majesty's 

Most humble dutiful servant. 

And faithful subject, 




THE writer of this little volume hajB long been accuatoined 
to observe the habits, resources, and privations of the labouring 
I daases of society, and to cherish a lively interest in their weU 
I five and hapf»ness. Under a conviction that the outward con* 
dition of these classes might be materially meliorated by an 
' improvement in their moral and prudential habits, she has often 
I indulged the vdsh that some enlightened and benevolent friend 
i to their true interests would furnish them with a ^miliar com- 
pendium, calculated to meet their daily round of wants, feel- 
I ings, circumstanees, and duties, and to suggest friendly and 
profitable hints relative to each. 

Several performances of the kind have appeared^ some, pro- 
bably, vnth whibh the present writer is unacquainted. Those 
tiiat have Mien in her way she has found either deficient on 
'account of the scanty circle of topics embraced, or unsuitable 
from the mixture of irrelevant and objectionable sentiments. 
The need appeared still to exist, and from circumstances which 
it is unnecessary here to detail, the task which ^e would fieiin 
have assigned to an abler hand has &llen to her own. It has 
been pursued with diffidence under a deep conviction of her 
own inability, yet not without deriving considerable pleasure 
firom the subjects that have passed under her notice ; and 
should her little work prove subservient to the well being of 
those classes for whose use it is designed, and auxiliary to 


the instructions and endeavours of their henefeictors, she will 
feel satisfied that she has not wholly fidled in attaining the de- 
sired ohject. 

Nov. 1825. 


Such were the sentiments expressed on first sending forth 
this little volume. That an Eighth Edition should be called for 
in so short a time, testifies the public approbation in a manner 
most gratifying to the feelings of the writer, which demands 
her warmest thanks, and which encourages the hope, that her 
attempt has not only been acceptable but useful, 

St. Aldate's, Oxford, 
Not). 1831. , 


The continued and increasing degree of approbation and 
support with which this work is honoured, is evident in tbe 
call for a Twelfth Edition within nine years. While by ne 
means indifferent to this circumstance, the Author is still mor^ 
highly gratified by repeated testimonies of its practical useful* 

Brewers* Lane, Oxford., 
Nov. 1834, 



brraooucTi 6 n ••••..••.'.'•'•'• V. ..••...••'••• • i , 2 

CHAP. I. Moral Character. Integrity, Anecdotes — 
Sincerity, Anecdote — ^Prudence — Forec&st or Good Ma- 
nagement — Self-denial — Industry — Sobriety — ^Frugality — 
Teachableness — Cleanliness — Subordination — Cheerfulness 
and Contentment — How to make the best of it — ^Discretion 
in the choice of companions • 2 — 93 

CHAP. II. Choosing a Cottaob. Situation — Water 
Convenience — Capability of Improvement 33—25 

CHAP. III. Taking a Cottage. Agreement — ^Repaii 
Alterations — ^Responsibility — ^Time 25—27 

CHAP. IV. Entering on the Cottaob. Comfort and 
Convenience — Fanaticism~>A foolish freak — The Garden — 
Linen posts — An arbour — In doors alterations — White 
washing — Painting — Grates — Copper — Ironing stove — 
Windows — House cleaning 27—33 

CHAP. V. Furnishing a Cottage. Scale of expense- 
Larger and smaller articles-^Brewing utensils — ^Deal and 
oak — Tables — ^Drawers^-Ironing board — second hand goods 
— Bed furniture — Calico and linen — Remnants — Chairs — • 
Tea kettle and other hard ware — ^Nottingham ware — Dish 
tuba — Brooms and brushes — ^General decency 33 — 39 

CHAP. VI.- Income and- Expenditure. Industry — Over 
work in summer — ^Wcfrk at home — ^The wife's employment 
^--Washing — Needlework-^-Lace making — ^Knitting — ^Bind- 
ing shoes — Going out to work — ^The husband's comfort — 
Nursing— Gardening— Selling fruit — ^Young trees — Flowers 
^^eds — Vegetables — ^An example — ^Field work — ^Turnip 
greens — Cowslips — Elderberries — Milk — Keeping cows- 
Pigs — Manure — Poultry — ^Frugality— Clear accounts — Re- 
trenchments — ^Allotment of income — ^Rent— The Saving's 
bank— Clothing — Firing — Buying at the best hand— Provi- 
sion for sickness and lying-in — ^Dramshops — Pawn brokers 
—Lotteries — Good management— Brewing calculations — 
Baking calculations — Use of milk — Pig killing time — 
Butcher's meat-'-^Extravagance of feeding on bread and 
cheese-'Tea drinking 39— «6 


CHAP. VII. CoTTAGB EcoNOUT. Directioiu for brewing- 
Making bread — Curing bacon— Cookery — Chitterlings — 
Hog puddings — Sausages — Pease soup — ^Pot liquor— Pota- 
toes — Rice Porridge — Eggs — Elder wine-— Ginger pop- 
Washing — ^Ironing — ^To white-wash a Cottage — ^Rush can- 
dles— To preserve eggs 06 — 91 

CHAP. VIII. Krepino -AinMAL9. Cows*- Management 
of the dairy— Pigs — Rabbits — Fowls — Turkies — ^Ducks — 
Geese— Pigeons — ^Bees ...., 01—102 

CHAP. IX. Gardener's Calendar. Miscellaneous obser- 
vations on Gardening 103—127 

CHAP. X. Management of Infants. A new-born infant — 
Dressing — ^Suckling — Cleanliness — Cold water — Improper 
food — Cordials and opiates — ^Food — Weaning — Sleeping — 
Regularity — Early hours — Cutting teeth — ^Animal food- 
Exercise — Posture— Teaching to walk— Wind on the sto- 
mach—Anecdote—Air — Shoes— Vaccination ......' 127 — 139 

CHAP. XI. Hints on Sickness and Accidents. Medical 
advice — ^Taking cold — Fevers — Sorethroats — Headach— 
Bowel complaints«^Complaints of the chest — Cold feet — 
Tooth-ach — r Rheumatism — Itch — ^Fainting away— Piles — 
Apparent drowning — Suffocation — Poison — Wound*— 
Blows— Sprains — Fire-^Bums and scalds — Stings and ve • 
nomous bites— Gatherings— Lime or dirt in the eyes-^Hinta 
to lying-in women — ^Diseases of cbildren^-^^ookery for tho 
sick —Medicine — Outward appUcationa , 130— 19 1 

CHAP. XII. Education of Children. Design of educa- 
tion — ^False indulgence — ^Partiality — ^Well regulated autho- 
rity-^Punishment— Instruction — ^Inculcation of good prin- 
ciples and habits— ^Encouragement of genius — Reading- 
Schools 191—207 

CHAP. XIII. Recreations. Design of recreation— Adapted 
to nature of employment— Public house "^ Gambling — 
Gardening-Society of children— Bathing — ^Keeping ani- 
mals 907—211 

CHAP. XIV. Cottage Ubrart 213—214 

CHAP. XV. Good Neighbourhood 214 — $17 

OHAP. XVI. Contentment and Lotaltt 218, 219 

CHAP. XVII. Conclusion .. , 219—234 



1. It is my intention^ like some other writers of tlie pre. 
sent day^ to number my paragraphs^ that they may be the more 
easily referred to, as occasion requires. 

2. It is very desirable that the labouring classes of society 
should be respectable and comfortable in their circumstances ; 
that they should be able to provide themselves with decent 
habitation, wholesome food, and suitable raiment. The hap. 
piness of every benevolent person is advanced by observing 
and by promoting the happiness of those arouna him ; and 
in proportion as its population is thriving and contented, in 
that proportion is a nation secured both against invading 
foes, and internal discord. 

3. The well-being of all persons, and especially of the la- 
bouring classes, greatly depends upon themselves ; upon their 
own exertions ; their own management ; and their o^ti disposi- 
tions. If any plain reasonable hints can be suggested, which 
may assist them in the better regulation of these, such hints de- 
serve to be kindly received, attentively considered, and cheer- 
fully acted upon. 

4. Many books have been written on such subjects. Some 
of them have been too expensive, or too learned for general 
use ; and seem rather calculated to point out to gentlemen 
and farmers, how they may benefit their tenants and la- 
bourers. These ai-e exceedingly good in their place, but 
they do not discourage a cheap and familiar work, like tlie 
present, which aims to set those people on contriving how 
they may benefit themselves. There are other works, ad- 
dressed to the labouring classes themselves, wriiten in a style 
sufficiently familiar, furnished at a moderate expense, and 
which contain much sound and judicious information and re. 
flection ; but in which are artfully mixed up many things ol 
a very objectionable nature and tendency. Some things are 
put together which have no real, natural, or necessary con- 
nexion with each other ; and some are set in opposition, as if 
ihey could not exist together, which in reality are in perfect 
iiarmony and agreement. Such writers perfectly well know 



this to be the case, and must be fully conscious of misrepre. 
senting things on purpose to mislead their readers, and to 
serve a pajty. 

5. From both these classes of writers, whatever may be met 
ivith suitable to the design of the present work^ will be freely 
borrowed and brought into it. Those who mean well, will be 
glad that any of their remarks should be brought more within 
the reach of those persons for whose use they were designed ; 
and the displeasure of that class is not regarded, who, while 
they pretend to build the poor man a comfortable cottage, 
would secretly undermine tlie very foundation upon which it 
stands. The present writer has no motives to conceal, no 
party to serve. The only design in tliis little work, is to 
oring foi'ward a few observations, suggested bj common sense, 
and appealing to the common sense of the reader. Common 
sense is a most valuable quality, and happily it is one in 
which the labouiing classes are not deficient. If what is here 
set down, or any part of it, is not agreeable to conmion sense, 
let it be rejected. If that is the worst that comes of a book, 
no great harm is done. If it should in any shape or degree 
promote the Cottager's comfort and respectability, its end 
will be answered, and the Autlior's labour well repaid. 

Of Moral Character, 

6. My design is, to treat of Cottage comforts, and the 
means of promoting them. Let us, then, begin at the be- 
ginning, and see that we lay a good foundation. This 
foundation can be no other than a good moral character ; for 
it is in vain to talk of comfort, where there is a lazy, dnmken,. 
tyrannical husband ; or an idle, slatternly, artful, or quarrel- 
some wife ; or where their character for dishonesty, or other 
vice, is such as shuts them out from the employment and re- 
spect of their more opulent neighbours. 

7. A good character arises from the cultivation of good 
moral habits. A man is honest, just, and upright in all his 
dealings — he establishes a character for honesty; he is ac- 
counted a person to be trusted. He always specdcs ihe truth ; — 
Ills word is taken, nobody thinks of doubting it He does 


every one a kindness^ as opportunity offers ; he stirs up no 
sink ; bears no ilLwill ; — ^he gets the character of a quiet. 
peaceable^ and good neighbour. 

8. When we speak of such and such virtues as suited to the 
iabouring classes^ we do not intend any thinc;^ disparaging or 
degrading^ as though we were recommending a meaner class 
of virtues — ^no such thing — ^the same virtues are suitable to 
^1; without them, a lord cannot be either respectable or 
happy, but he may exist, A labourer, on the other hand, 
knows that his charactt^r is his bread ; and perhaps it is well 
lor him that he has this motive, as well as others, to influence 
him in the pursuit of what is right. 

9. Such a character as is essential to the comfort and re. 
qiectabihty of a cottager and his wife, should be formed in 
early life ; for if once they are married, and vice and misery 
have taken possession of their dwelling, it will be a very h^rd 
matter to drive them out The good qualities, therefore, 
which we ^all speak of, are such, as it is earnestly to be de. 
sired that young people may constantly cultivate, and that 
they may have them formed into settled habits, before they 
think of settling themselves for hfe. 

10. Those young persons, who a few years hence will con. 
stitute the great body of the labouring class of society, we 
expect now to find either ii. domestic service, in apprentice, 
ship, or in the house of their parents, assisting the father in 
his calling, or the mother in her domestic cares. We shall 
speak of such moral habits as those circumstances will call 
into exercise, such as will establish for the individual a good 
character in them. 

11. Inte<frity is the first moral virtue, the basis of all that 
is valuable in character. For suppose one was inquiring the 
character of a servant, and should be told that she was act- 
tive, cleanly, good tempered, and possessed a dozen other 
good quahties, who would reckon her character worth any 
tiling if it must be added, ' but she is not honest ?' Well, then, 
let young people who wish to be respectable and happy 
tluough life, begin by cultivating the strictest integrity in all 
their dealings. By honesty, I do not mean merely abstaining 
from such acts as, if detected, would expose to a halter or a 
prison, but a nice feeling of principle* that would shrink from 
die smallest and most secret fraud, or act of unjust gain. 
Shew me a youtli, who, if an account is made out, a shilling, 
or a penny in his favour, points it out, and returns it as soon 
as the error is detecU**? or, who vhen tempted by com. 
panions to take some little perqusite not expressly allowed 


steadily refuses to make use of the gmallest part of his mas. 
ter's or his parent's property^ without express penuissior 
and I will shew you one, who possesses the first requisite to 
respectability and happiness. A person of another cast, who 
takes every little mean advantage that presents itself; who 
now and then takes a pinch of tea, or a sip of wine, or one 
apple out of a heap, or one penny out of a till, goes the way 
to ruin and misery. If a person surrounded with plenty, 
yields to such temptations, what may they not be led to, when 
pinched mth want, and surrounded by a starving family ? 
And if a child does not hold sacred the property of a pcu 
rent, is it likely that that of a husband or wife wUl be more 
so ^ And, in the married life, what happiness can there be 
without mutual confidence P If propeity is disposed of by 
one party, without the concurrence of the other, or if even 
such a suspicion exists, comfort soon forsakes that dwelling. 

12. I promised to enliven my remarks with anecdotes. Take 
the following, as shewing the value of strict integrity, both to 
character and success in life. 

13. "A nobleman, lately travelling in Scotland, was asked for 
alms in the High.street of Edinburgh, by a little ragged boy : 
he said he had no change : upon which the boy offered to 
procure it. His lordship, in order to get rid of his importu. 
nity, gave him a piece of silver, which the boy conceiving was 
to be changed, ran off for the purpose. On his retmn, not 
finding his benefactor, who he expected would have waited, 
he watched for several days in the place where he had re. 
ceived the money, pm*suing his occupation. At length the 
nobleman happening again to pass that way, he accosted him, 
and put the change he had procured into his hand, counting 
it with great exactness. His lordship was so pleased with the 
boy's honesty, that he has placed him at school, and means 
to provide for him." 

14. '* There was a poor, but honest widow-woman, who had 
a large family ; she brought them up to work hard all the week, 
and go decently dressed to church on the Sunday ; she often 
found it difficult to fit them out, but though their clothes were 
so patched, that it was hard to tell which was the master, 
piece, yet there was never a hole to be seen in them ; and, let 
them be ever so coarse, they were sure to be clean. One of , 
her boys worked for a gentleman farmer, in tlie parish, and 
one day his master said to him, ' Here, Will, are a couple of J 
pair of old smallclothes for you, I know your mother is a j 
tidy woman, and makes the best of an old thing.' Will car- 
ried them home highly delighted, and good naturedly wislMtl 


i hi&m^eF to m^nd one pajr up for his younger brother; but 
ihe thcmght it a pity to cut them smaller, so mended one pair 
1^ &erve Will for Sundays, and put the others carefully by. 
Nearly two years elap^, and at length, the first pair being 
con^letely gone by for bettemwst, the second were inquired 
after ; the careful mother brought them down to repair, and 
on turning out one of the pockets, discovered a five pound 
note. She immediately took it to the gentleman, ana said, 
with great simpticity, that she had brought back the bank- 
Qote that was left in his honour's pocket. He thanked her, 
and said, he shoidd never have missed it; he greatly com. 
mended her honesty, but suffered her to return home without 
any other reward, than that which she found in her own bo. 
8om, the consciousness of having performed a right action. 
•^he did not expect any other, therefore she was not disap. 
pointed, but went home very contented and cheerful, and 
completed her mending job by the time her son returned from 
work. 'Mother,^ said he, as he entered the cottage, 'the 
'squire wants to speak to you, and you and I are ordered to 
go up together in half an hour ; what can he want of us ? 
I'm sure I have done nothing to have anger about.' ' We 
shall hear when we get there,' answered his mother, not with- 
out some suspicion of the nature of his business with them ; 
but little anticipating the substantial proof she was to receive 
oi his approbation of her conduct. Will having cleaned him. 
8el^ accompanied his mother to the farm ; in the hall were 
a£gembled, all the work people, beside two or three neighbour. 
ing gentlemen. On the entrance of Mrs. CoJes and her sou, 
Uie master related to all present, the aflair of the bank.note ; 
he then replaced it in his pocketJbook, and took out one ot 
double value, which he presented to the poor widow, and 
added, that both from the conduet of her son since he had 
been employed on the farm, and from the circumstance of his 
having been brought up under so good a mother, he felt the 
rul]cst confidence in his integrity, and should appoint him as 
hts bailiff, to manage the afi'airs of a small farm, a few miles 
&tant. The widow and her son, as may be supposed, were 
overcome with joy and gratitude, and the company present 
seemed disposed to divide their applause between the honesty 
of the peasant, and the generosity of the master.'' 

15. ** Joseph was sent on an errand to Mr, Russell's, the great 
linen.draper's shop, and had a pound note given him to get 
changed. It was just at dusk that he took the money ; he 
trapped it carefully in a piece of paper and eis soon as he got 
home, he counted it by Uie candle, to see that all was right ; 


when lo ! among it he found that a golden sovereign had been 
given to him instead of a silver shilling : away he ran back to 
the shop, with the money in his hand, and addressing himself 
to the shopman, who had served him, said ' Sir, I am come 
to tell you that you did not give me my change right/ The 
shopman rather hastily replied, ' But I am certain I did give 
it you right, and you must have dropped part in going home/ 
*No, sir,' returned Joe, ' it was quite safe wrapped up in my 

paper, and when I came to count it over I found' * Ah !' 

interrupted the hasty shopman, ' it does not signify telling us 
what you found ; we have no time to attend to these kind of 
things ; if it had not been meddled with from the time I gave 
it you, you would have found it right enough/ The master 
of the shop happening to overhear something of the dispute, 
came up, and asked Joseph what he missed. ' I do not miss 
any thing, sir,' replied the boy ; ' but I have brought bade a 
sovereign, which was given me in mistake ; will you please to 
take it, and give me a shilling instead ?' ' Certainly I will,' 
returned the master; 'and I am very much obliged to you 
for your honesty. You seem to be a poor lad; and as the 
money was given you in mistake, and you were not known at 
the i^op, it would very likely never have been missed or 
traced : the thought of this must have been a strong tempta- 
tion to you to keep it for your own use ; how was it that you 
resisted it ?' 'I have been taught, sir,' said Joseph, ' that my 
duty to my neighbour is, to do to others as I should wish 
them to do to me, if I were in their place. I know that if I 
had given but a penny in mistake, I should wish to have it 
returned, much more such a sum as this.' So I made haste 
back with it, before there was time to be tempted to keep it/ 
* You have acted wisely, and nobly,' said Mr. Russell ; * may 
you ever be enabled to persevere in the path of rectitude! 
But now, as you have judged so feirly, and performed so 
faithfully what I had a right to desire of you, tell me, what do 
you think you can reasonably desire of me ?' * That you 
should think me an honest boy, sir.' I do so, my good Lad; 
and will give you a convincing proof of it. I have just now 
been to inquire the character of an errand boy, who has 
applied to me for employment ; he is a much stouter lad than 
you, and his late master tells me he is quick and clever, but 
inclined to be sly : this is a character I cannot bear ; but 
your conduct, my lad, in this instance, is a character for you. 
I value integrity far above the highest abilities ; so go home 
to your parents, and tell them that if they are willing, you 
may come here to-morrow morning/ Joe and his parents* 


you may be sure, could make no objection to so good an offer. 
He went to his place the next day, where he still coutiDues, 
giving great satisfaction to his master by his fidelity, diUgence, 
and civility ; and the shopman, who is a worthy young man, 
being grieyed that he had spoken so hastily and harshly to a 
good and honest boy, has ever smce provetl a kind friend to 
liiin; and^ beside many other good-natured actions, has, in 
his leisure hours, taught him to write and cast accounts." 

16. Very nearly connected with integrity is Sincerity. A 
constant habit of speaking the truth and guarding against 
any thing like an intention to deceive, or conceal the truth. I 
don^t know any one thing that tends more to mutual respect, 
and mutual happiness, in a family or other society, than when 
one feels that they can fully rely upon what the other says ; 
there is then no concealment — ^no prying — ^no jealousy — ^no 
suspicion. Mrs. Taylor, in her truly valuable ' Present to a 
young Servant,' has so happily illustrated the evils of lying 
and insincerity, that I take the liberty of ^inserting her narra. 
tive, assured that my readers will find it both entertaining 
and instructive, 

17. " Hannah Perry was the daughter of poor cottagers ; who 
having no good principles themselves, of course were unable 
to instil them into their children. The mother was in the 
constant habit of lying to the father, to account for the money 
she squandered away in gin, in snuff, in ounces oijine tea, and 
quarterns oi fresh butter, and in a variety of other unnecessary 
expenses; by which many of the poor injure their circum- 
stances, impose upon tlie charitable and humane, and become 
burdensome to the parish, when they might maintain them- 
selves decently by their own industry, if they chose. 

" When HaDuah perceived that her father was sometimes im- 
posed upon, she began to think lying a very convenient tiling ; 
ibr she had not learned to consider, that it is the ofifispring of 
y'lce, and the parent of misery. Being a girl of quick parts, 
ahe soon became as dexterous as her mother, in every kind oi 
deceit and falsehood. She often obtained her parents' praises, 
for the tricks she practised upon themselves— they thought 
them so droll and so clever. ' O Hannah ! what a liar you 
are, girl !' the father would say laughingly, clapping her on 
the back : and the mother used to observe, that it was a hun- 
dred to one but her girl would get on in the world, by hook 
or by crook. 

** In process of time, into the world she went to try her 
fortune: of course, she was extremely ignorant, but na- 
turally very sharp; so that in general, she required to see 


a tiling but once done, to be able to do it herself. She had a 
sort oi' pride, which delighted in per Arming things well ; not 
so much to serve and obHge her mistress, as to set herself off, 
and shew how clever she was ; and though brought up in a 
dirty way, she soon discovered, that to be thought clever, it 
was necessary she should be cleanly. Cleanly, therefore, she 
became ; and as idleness formed no part of her character, she 
found the habit not so difficult to acquire as some are apt to 
imagine.- -And now was the turning point in Hannah's for. 
tune. Haul the natural ability which she possessed been 
united to a principle of uprightness, a little care and attention 
would have established her character as a valuable servant : 
she might have done credit to her station, and proved a com- 
fort to all around her. But with all her capability she was 
liable to frequent mistakes, arising from her ignorance and in. 
experience, which in order to excuse, or conceal, she had 
ahvays a story ready ; and as she had no father at hand to 
extol her ingenuity,- she used secretly to congratulate herself 
upon what seemed almost like a natural talent. — But however 
clever Hannah might be, she found mistresses who were as 
clever as herself, and who were as dexterous in finding out 
falsehoods, as she was at inventing them. A single one may 
perhaps pass undiscovered, though never unpunished, sooner 
or later; hut they cannot be habitually practised without de- 
tection. Hannah soon found that neither her cleverness, nor 
her civility (for she had a very smooth tongue) could atone 
for her want of sincerity : of course she removed fi'om place 
to place ; and as she could seldom obtain a character, she had 
invented a variety of stories with surprising ingenuity, which 
were always ready upon such occasions, and which were ju- 
diciously chosen according to the circumstances of tlie case. 
Either her late mistress was far distant in the country, or dead, 
or something, or any thing that mi^t suit her purpose, and 
serve her turn. In due time, however, she found that it was 
easier to get out of place, than to get in to one, notwithstand- 
ing all her plausible stories. Experience might have insti^ucted 
her to alter her course and amend her ways, but the habit had 
become so powerful, that she had almost forgotten how to 
speak tinith upon the most common occasions ; and she 
iiequently persisted in an untruth, till she almost believed it 
herself, and often uttered falsehoods before she was aware of 

" At length, in an evil hour for him, a labouring man in the 
neighbourhood became acquainted with her, not at first with 
vay intention of marrying, but merely to enjoy a little inno« 


eent chat ; though in a short time^ the wonderful stories die 
(old, of the high places in which she had lived, the great con. 
fidence placed in her by her mistresses, the amazingly grand 
thing? she had seen, and the clever things she had done, the 
great offers she had from Lord such a one's butler, and the 
Dake of such a one's valet, quite captivated the man ; and 
as her conduct towards him became so increasingly kind and 
condescending, as to leave no doubt on his mind respecting 
her partiality towards him, he was encouraged to make her 
the ofier of his person ; especially as she gave him to under. 
stand that she had saved a handsome sum in service, which 
made the step appear not quite so imprudent as at first he 
feared some might think it The remaining doubts which he 
he bad, respecting what could induce her to marry a poor 
working man, who could earn little more than enough for his 
own subsistence, he got rid of, by concluding that there must 
be something in himself passingly agreeable ! When, how. 
ev^, William Jenkins set about ^mishing his house, in order 
to hasten the happy day, he wondered that she did not come 
forward with a little money toward defraying the expenses ; 
but she said, her money was in the hands of a friend> and this 
fiiend was in the country : so Jenkins thinkmg that whenever 
it did come it would be welcome, and impatient to secure such 
a bargain, lest it should drop through his fi tig«*rs, contrived to 
save enough by half starving himself foi a few mouths, to 
purchase an old bedstead, a few rickety chairs a table, and 
a broken hutch, a i-usty kettle, and a few (racked plates and 
platters, pots and pans : and he did again wonder, tliat she 
appeared so well contented with all this, and often repeated 
to himself the words of the old song, ' Only see what love can 

''And so in due time they were married, and in due time he 
discovered his mistake, and so did she too ; for she found that 
quitting service, and getting a husband, and being Mrs. Jen- 
kins, was not quite so delightful an affair as she had expected. 
As to the money she had saved, it soon appeared that me had 
no inend either in town or country, nor money either. Mu- 
tual disappointment produced mutual dislike and discontent, 
especially as she could not now, as formerly after a dispute 
with hei* mistress, give warning, and go off* in a huff, 

"It was observed above, that she was not cleanly from prin- 
ciple ; 9nd now having, as she imagined, no further puipose 
lo serve by it, she relapsed into all the dirty and slothful ways 
in which she had been brought up, and proved in evei'y re- 
sp<ict tjiat she was her mother^s own daughter. Her old trade 

n a 


<'f lying she still industriously followed, and taught it to her 
seven vagabond children. The husband, who was naturally 
of a frank and open disposition, finding that &he could never 
be depended on, grew suspicious, cross, and sulky. As she 
always told some falsehood respecting the way the money 
went, he as constantly tried to make a secret of how and 
when it came. If she wanted any thing on trust at the 
chandler's shop, she was never at a loss for some story to suit 
her purpose, and when payment could no longer be delayed, 
she had recourse to the same means to procure the money 
from her husband, who advanced it always grudgingly, not 
believing a word she said. If the children were detain^ at 
home from the Sunday school, she furnished them with an ex. 
cuse to account for it ; and she was so dexterous in inventing 
a different one every time, that they did nQt long need their 
mother's assistance. But she soon found, that as neither her 
husband nor her children could depend upon her, so she had 
no one on whom she could depend ; confidence and comfort 
w^e banished together, and the house became a scene of 
quarrelling and confusion. 

" In process of time her children sallied forth into the worltl 
to get their living, and to be the torments of their employ ere, 
as their mother and grandmother had been before them : so 
do vicious habits descend from one generation to another. Of 
course they were frequently leaving their places and returning 
home, to devour the scanty morsel barely sufficient for their 
parents. William Jenkins died, and lefl his wife in deplorable 
circumstances. She was naturally so handy and clever, that 
many families would gladly have employed her, if her un- 
wordiy disposition had not been so notorious. 

" And there in her forlorn and darksome hut she still lives, 
destitute and friendless, only recollected by the families she 
once served as ' that lying Hannah !* Her last resource is the 
workhouse ; and the only fiiends she can boast are the over, 
seers of the parish V' 

As a contrast to this, is presented the following pleasing 
unecdote of President Washington. 

18. " When George Washington was about six years of age, 
some one made him the present of a hatchet : of which b(^. 
ing, like most children, immoderately fond, he went about 
chopping every thing tliat came in his way : and going into 
the garden, he unluckily tried its edge on an English cherry 
tree ; which he barked so teiribly as to leave very little hope 
of its recovery. The next morning his father saw the tree, 
which was a great favourite, in tliat condition ; and inquired 


whp had done the mischief, declaring he would not have 
taken five guineas for the tree ; but nobody could inform him 
Presently after; however, George came with the hatchet in 
Ills hand, into the place where his father was, who inune. 
filately suspected him to be the culprit ' George/ said the 
old gentleman, ' do you know who killed that beautiful little 
cherry-tree, yonder in the garden ?' The child hesitated for 
a moment, and then nobly replied, ' I can't tell a lie. Papa ; — 
you know I can't tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet' — 
' Run to my arms, my boy !' exclaimed his father, ' run to my 
arms ! Glad am I, George, that you killed my tree ; for you 
have paid me for it a thousand fold ! Such an act of heroism 
in my son, is of more worth than a thousand chelry .trees, 
though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of gold !' " 

Persons who have joined together in deceiving others, if 
they should happen afterwards to be connected together, are 
sure to be unhappy through mutual distrust I have seen 
several instances of great unhappiness in the married hfe, 
arising from this very circumstance. 

19. I think I may next set down Prudence, Prudence is 
visdom put in practice. It teaches what is proper to be done, 
and what to be avoided : it also suggests the best means, man- 
ner, order, season, and method of doing or leaving undone. 
Thb is a valuable quality in a servant or apprentice ; when 
they can judge, without being continually told, — what is suit, 
able to their circumstances and situation — what is most for their 
master's interest and respectability — what is the wisest thing to 
be done at the present moment, and how it may best be done, 
so as to secure the well.doing of all that is required, without 
suffering one duty to jostle out another. This wUl also be 
found an invaluable quality in a poor man's cottage : teach- 
ing what is desirable, and what is practicable — ^what had bet. 
ter be pursued, and when, and how — and what had better be 
let alone, done without, or deferred. This quality will be es. 
pecially called into exercise in the choice of a partner for life 
-^-«ui imprudent step here would be the ruin of happiness 
for life. 

20. Forecast or Good Management is prudence in a particu. 
/ar sliape. It is a valuable quality, and one in which some 
young persons are lamentably deficient. Those who possess 
It can perform twic^ the work, with half the bustle and fatigue 
—just as a good ]*acker will do up the same parcel of goods 
in half the compass ; he has a notion of forming his layers 
into square rows and a regular pile, and filling up every little' 
chink. Tlie difference is perpetually seen in household affairs; 


perhaps in affairs so small that it would seem impossible tfant 
they ^Ottld materially influence the peace and comfort of the 
faoQuly ; but, on examination, want of forecast in small things 
will be found the sole cause, in many families, of perpetual al- 
tercation and confusion. A servant knows she has three or 
five minutes on her hands, before she will be wanted for some 
particular service. If she be destitute of forecast and good 
maneigement, perhaps ehe will set about something that would 
take her half an hour or an hour to do. She has no sooner 
begun, than the bell rings ; she is obliged to leave, and has 
her task to begin again. Perhaps she is discoin^ed — and 
the next time says, 'Well, it really is not worth while to 
set about any thing just for two or three minutes f* so she 
throws away the two or three minutes, which she can never 
pick up again throughout the day. A good manager bethinks 
herself of something that will take just three or five minutes 
to do, and which might as well be done at that moment as at 
any other. She does it — and that is off her mind and care : 
it will not spring forward at any future hour of the day, to 
vex her mistress by finding it undone, or herself^ by being 
called away from some other business to do it — ' There are the 
beds to be made — and the breakfast things washed — and pud. 
ding and potatoes to be boiled for dinner.' A bad manager 
receives these directions from her mistress — ^and to work she 
goes, vritli bustle enough, perhaps, as if she would accomplish 
it all long before dinner time. She makes the beds, and 
comes down to wash the breakfast tilings — ' Oh dear, oh dear; 
was ever any thing so provoking — not a drop of water in the 
kettle and the fire just out.' Then the sticks and the bellows 
go to work, (by the way, I never knew any but a bad ma. 
nager who found it necessary often to use the bellows,) — at 
IciLgth the water boils, and the clock strikes— why — ^what 
o'clock is that ?— my pudding ought to be in— and it is not 
made, nor any water set on for it— well, I must use this, and 
do the tea-things afterwards. The pudding is made, and put 
in, half an hour later than it should be— then to work again, 
to heat water for the tea-things— it boils — but she must now 
first put the potatoes on, or they will not be half done by din- 
ner time. The potatoes are put on, and the water poured out 
— but now the family are assembled for dinner, and the cloth 
must be laid — and the potatoes are all but raw, and the pud. 
ding but half boiled — and the water cold, and the tea-things 
not washed up — and the mistress displeased, and the house 
thrown into confusion. It seems never to occur to a bad 
manager, that there are some things, which, if once set agoing 



go on by themselves. If she faad but supplied the fire with 
ooals, it would have drawn up — and set on the kettle, tb« 
water would have boiled for the tea things, while she made 
the beds — ^and the fire would have been at liber^ for the pod* 
ding.water to be set on — and all the mischief would have 
been prevented. How would this disposition do to carry into 
a cottage ? 

21. My next virtue shall be Self-denial, 1 choose rather to 
pot this ^an good temper; for temper, I look upon as part of 
^ original constitution, which it is our province not positively 
to alt€T, but to regulate and make the best of. And I 
think self-denial will be found the most T I will add the only) 
effectual regulator of temper. Self-denial will rectify a bad 
tanper, and without it a good temper is not to be relied on. 
Grood humour is all very well, and lasts just as long as all 
goes on smoothly ; but when roughs and crosses come in the 
way, self-denial must be called into exercise, or temper will 
soon lose its ground. Oh I have seen many a smiling merry 
girl, after a few years hardship and privation in the married 
life, become a poor, peevish, fretful, discontented creature ; so 
that it has been said with truth and justice, ' You would not 
know her to be the same.' Good humour is a bright colour 
in the web of life; but self-denial only can make it a, fast co. 
lour. A person who is the slave of selfishness has so many 
wants of his own to be supplied — so many interests of his own 
to support and defend, that he has no leisure to study the 
wants and interests of others : it is impossible that he should 
be happy himself, or make those around him so. Did you 
ever see a group of selfish children, quarrelling around tlieir 
feast or their toys? you saw, then, in their violence and 
squabbles, a lively picture in miniature of a family of selfish 
individuals. I need not stay to calculate how much happi- 
ness is to be found in the cottage where the husband's study 
is, how large a portion of his earnings he can retain for }m 
own gratifications, without being reckoned quite a brute to his 
wife and family; and the wife's how much she can wheedle 
him out of, or gain secretly, to support her own finely and 
indulgence :— ^where both are contriving to obtain for them-, 
selves the most plentiful share of a scanty meal ; or the dain- 
tiest bit of a coarse one ; or the best seat by the fireside ; or 
the least laborious share of any task that is to be performed. 
If any young person, who looks forward to a cottage life, will 
please for a moment to fancy such a cottage scene, it may 
tend to suppress those risings of selfishness which would gnidga 
to perform any little service, not expressly stipulated foi ; or 


refuse to share the burden with a fellow-serrant; or muruiar 
at his sharing some profit or perquisite ; in short, Uiat vould 
aim to get as. much, and do as little, to extort as many bene- 
fits, and impart as few, as possible. 

2<2. IndMstry is a virtue most essential to the character and 
the happiness of the labouring classes of society. A steady 
persevering industry, that leads them to take pleasure in their 
regular employment, and will induce them to spend even the 
odds and ends of time, called leisure, in activity, not in indo. 
lence. It is a pity to hear so many healthy gu4s now-a-days 
inquiring for light places, when, in reality, full employment is 
in itself a blessing, conducive to health, contentment, and im. 
provement A person to whom industry is habitual, has not 
Uie smallest inclination to spend one moment either indolently 
or unprofitably. I have known some young women whose 
daily business is over by five or six o'clock ; yet who may be 
continually seen with their stockings out at heels, their gown 
hanging in slits, and their apron strings tied together in knots 
— strong symptoms, surely, of a serious deficiency in industry. 
I have known others, (one in particular at this moment 
presents herself to my mind,) who, in much more laboiious 
places, could find time to keep their clothes neatly mended, 
to knit their own stockings, and to quilt their own petticoats, 
(quilted petticoats were the fashion in those days — and good, 
warm durable things they were, worth a dozen of the modem 
cobwebs. I was going to say, and so were the wearers too ; 
but that, perhaps, is better let alone ;) aye, and they could 
find time, too, to sew all their shreds together, into bed quilts 
and table tops against tliey set up housekeeping. There was 
' Yorkshire Molly,' for one, who lived years in the house of 
my parents. When she came to be hired, on being asked if 
she was afraid of work, replied, ' Afraid of work I no, not I, 
I came to London on purpose to inquire after it You pay 
me well, and feed me well, and Pll be bound to do the work 
of two.' Molly was hired, and fulfilled her challenge — ^do 
work came amiss to her — ^no quantity terrified her. On tliie 
first washing day, at breakfast time, her mistress offered her 
some directions about putting up the lines : ' Oh,' replied 
Molly, ' the linen is all hung out.' In like manner she cou. 
tinuaily amazed her employers, by her indefatigable industry. 
She remained with them several years, and then returned to 
settle in her own counti'y, rich in the fruits of her own exer. 
tions, and the liberality of those whom she had served. I knew 
another, who, in her hours of leisure, during the summer 
months, kept a considerable garden nicely weeded and swept 


•nd in the winter furflished the children of a nnmerouB lainily 
with socks of her own knitting. Her master and miatreM 
were not unmindful of these extra and unasked.for ser. 
vices. She left the place^ after continuing in it above eight 
years, with many honourable and valuable tokens of respect 
and approbation. It does not need the spirit of prophecy to 
say, which of these widely different classes of young women m 
most likely to fill their husbands' cottages with comforts of 
their own earning. The same may be said of the other sex. 
Shew me the apprentice who never leaves his bed till be 
ought to be opening his shop shutters ; and then hurries down, 
<slip-shod, unwashed, and hardly awake — who does notliing 
but what he is compelled to do, and retreats from duty the 
earliest possible moment, to yawn, or slumber, or gamble away 
the evening. Then shew me his fellow-apprentice, who actively, 
[wnctually, and cheerfully pursues the duties of his calling, 
rendering many a little service, without waiting for an ex* 
press command, from the mere habit of activity, which, from 
long use has become happily natural to him ; who is always 
about something, either improving his mind, or bettering his 
condition— or contriving something useful for his parents— or 
if it be only constructing a plaything for the children ; who is 
awake and active all the time he is up ; goes to bed properly 
tired, and awakes properly refreshed. And could you not, 
almost with Hogarth's descriptive fidelity, produce me a 
sketch of the cottage to be furnished and occupied by these 
two youths, some seven or ten years hence ? 

23. We must not omit Sobriety, Drunkenness is a beastly 
vice — ^no^that is a libel upon the brate creation— a beast will 
not get drunk of his own accord. I will say. then, that it is a 
filthy degrading vice ; a vice that is ruinous bolli to health 
and wealth, credit and comfort. Like other bad habits, it is 
not formed at once ; but arises from taking a little more than 
b necessary to quench thirst or digest food ; or taking now 
and then a glass of something extra, or something stronger, 
on occasion of some extra exertion. The young person fot 
either sex) who has acquired the habit of often finding this 
either necessary or agreeable, totters on the edge of a pre- 
cipice ; and certainly wants one great feature of a perfect cha- 
racter, and one grand ingredient of cottage happiness. When 
the weather is cold, and the work hard, and no employer's cup- 
board or cellar to go to, here a few pence will go, and there a 
few ; and when the pence fail, one cottage comfort will take 
wng after another ; and the house will soon become a scene 
of desolation. — I have not done with the various branches of 


A good cbaracter. There ai*e several fkt that must oe men. 
tioned ; they might be branched out into many more, but the 
most essentJ<il ^^ill be found utider some of thesi. 

24. Frugality is a very essential quality. Let us see a youtli 
(of either sex) careful of whatever of a master's property they 
may be entrusted with ; of the implements of labour, guarding 
them from injur}' — getting them repaired when necessary — malu 
ing them last as long as possible. Careful of the provender he 
feeds his cattle wiUi, and the blacking he cleans his shoes 
with : careful of the provisions set before him — neither prac- 
tising nor encouraging waste— turning every thing to account 
— using decently what is necessary, and no more — and wast- 
ing none : careful, too, of his own clothing and earnings — 
saving the best— keeping the worst well mended— and laying 
by a trifle for a rainy day. Why, surely, it is evident tliat 
such servants are at once invaluable treasures to their em. 
ployeij), and forming for themselves habits that bid fair U> 
multiply and perpetuate their cottage comforts another day ; 
while of those who thoughtlessly and extravagantly destroy 
oi' consume a master's property, it may be fairly predicted 
that they will not take care of their own, or long possess any. 
thing that requires care. The same may be said of those who 
consume all they earn on their personal expenses. If, while 
they have home and food provided, all they gain but just 
serves them for dress, and pleasure, b) what means is rent 
likely to be paid ; and a cottage furnished ; dnd a family and 
sickness provided for at a future day P 

25. Teachabletiess is another most valuable quality. I mean, 
not only readiness to leani what is absolutely taught and requir- 
ed, but an aptness to catch the knack of doing any thing useful: 
It is a great thing to have a disposition, as Mrs. Taylor expresses 
it, ' to use our eyes, and be able to see other things besides those 
which are laid straight before us.* What, if the apprentice takes 
pains to observe how a journeyman performs a branch of the 
business to which he has not yet been put ; or to leai*n of the 
clerk how to cast an account P he is not only rendering his 
services more valuable to his master, and thus ensuring his 
approbation and regard ; but he is also qualifying himself to 
expect better pay when he is himself a journeyman : perhaps, 
(for such advancements have been ;— perhaps) qualifying him- 
self, at some distant period, to overlook journeymen, clerks. 
And apprentices, as head of the establishment. Or what if, in 
their hours of leisure, the carpenter's apprentice should ac- 
quire from the plasterer a notion how to colour a room : or 
TOm the gardener how to prmie a tree, or raise a crop. Are 


not such youths fittiiig^emselvea for eesentially promoting the 
comforts of their cottage at some future time ? And what, if 
the nurse-maid, without neglecting her own proper charge* 
acquires also tihe art of polishing a grate or cleaning mabo- 
guiy ; or the housemaid that of trussing a fowl, or making a 
pudding or soups : such knowledge cannot be injurious, and 
may hereafter prove very valuable. The person who can turn 
her hand to any thing, is quaMed to make the best of every 
thing that her own cottage may afford ; and to gain a shilling 
(and tiiat, perhaps, -when an extra shilling may be an essential 
service to her own fieunily,) by occasional assistance in the 
house of a richer neighbour. But who would give thank'ye for 
the assistance of a helpless dawdle, who has it always at her 
tongue's end, ' I am sure I don't know how it is to be done.' 
' I never learned to do it.' ' I am no cook.' ' I don't under- 
stand housemaid's work.* * I ben't much of a needlewoman.' 
• I never was used to niursing.' If such fools are bom, they 
must be kept, (if they cannot be cured,) but who would expect 
to find coinfbrts in the cottage of which such was the mis- 

26. Cleanliness^ or a habit of neatness and order, both in 
making things clean, and avoiding needlessly to dirt them. 
This is a branch of a good character in a young person, and 
very essential to the comfort of a cottage in after life. How 
oft n is the peace of fieimilies disturbed from want of thii 
humble but useful quality. The mistress is displeased with 
her dirty cook ; who, if we may judge from her greasy sauce- 
pans, musty pudding cloths, and various other symptoms, 
seems bent upon fulfilling, on behalf of her employers, the fil- 
thy proverb, that condemns us all to ' eat a peck of dirt be- 
fore we die,'— or with the slatternly housemaid, whose chief 
fear seems to be lest she should disturb the spiders, or cause 
the furniture to take cold by removing a thick coat of dust, — 
or if these be cleanly, how often are there words between them 
and the slovenly apprentice, whose muddy shoes are traced 
along the clean oil cloth, or up the fresh scoured stairs ; or 
the table cloth disfigured with his gravy or beer ; or the bright 
candlestick wantonly bespattered with tallow-grease, llie 
very same uncleanly habits most effectually destroy cottage 
comforts. A dirty untidy woman will not, cannot, keep her 
cottage or her person in that orderly inviting trim, which a 
man of decent Imbits naturally expects and desires, and must 
have, in order to make him satisfied and happy at home. On 
the other hand, it certainly is very vexatious to a neat orderly 
woman, who has worked hard to get every thing around her 


dean and bright^ when a ilirty slovealy. husband cames in^ 
and flings this thing one way, and that another ; and seems 
wantonly to study how he may soonest efface every mark of 
her cleanly labours. If all this is patiently borne, and do. 
mestic broils are avoided, it must be through the existence 
and exercise of a still stronger principle than any we have yet 
spoken of. 

27. Subordination is necessary to the character and happi. 
ness of the labouring classes. Subordination ; this is a hard 
word ; let us try to explain it. It supposes society in its re. 
gular orders from the highest to the lowest. In a regular army 
there are many degrees from the colonel down to the private ; 
and unless subordination were maintained, that is, unless every 
man knew and kept to his own rank and place, and discharged 
its duties, there would soon be an end of all order, discipliut^, 
and effective service. It is so in societies in general — even in 
voluntary societies, whose members are originally upon a foot. 
u\g of equality, they find the necessity of degrees ; and they 
agree together to choose from their own body a president, a 
treafsurer, a secretary, or whatever other officers may be ne- 
ctissary for the government and arrangement of the society ; 
to these they give power and autliority, and to that power and 
authority they submit. Families are small societies ; children 
are necessarily subordinate, or subject to their parents ; and 
servants to their masters. There is neither hardship nor dis« 
grace in all this. 

* Honour and shame from no condition rise. 
Act well your part ; there all the honour lies.' 

He who has never learnt to obey, knows not how to rule ; and 
unless I can hear of a young person, (of either sex,) that they 
are willing to obey, without murmuring or disputing, all the just 
and reasonable commands of their parents and masters, I see 
III them no germ of good conduct, or comfort in the maniage 
state. The youth who is not dutiful and affectionate to his 
or her parents, and respectful and obedient to ma^^ter and mis- 
tress, is not at all likely to practise that steady affection, self- 
conli'ol, and mutual forbearance, which are so essentiai to hap. 
piness in married life ; nor yet to exercise that steady, gentle, 
and well-regulated authority, without which children cannot 
be pioperly managed. If each keep to their post, all goes on 
smoothly and pleasantly ; but if all want to govern, or reiose 
to comply, then all is confusion and contention. 

88. The next good quality 1 shall mention is, a cheerful 
contented disposition; a readiness to look at the bright side of 


erery thing, and to make the hest of it This is a change- 
able and imperfect sort of world. There is scarcely any thing 
we meet with^ but what has in it a mixture of good and evil. 
Much of our happiness and misery depend upon ourselves. 
It is not so much now things are, as how we take them. The 
disposition of some persons, leads them to look only at the 
evil — ^in whatever circumstances they happen to be placed, 
they make a point of considering them as affording great 
cause of complaint. When misfortune befalls them, they 
never mend the matter by reflecting how much worse it might 
have been : and whatever good comes in their way, is em- 
bittered by observing, that something greater or better is pos- 
sessed by their neighbour, and might have been theirs, but for 
this, that^ or the odier circumstance, which, though they can. 
not alter, they will not cease to bewail. Such murmurers ane 
the bane of sdl enjoyment both to themselves and to all whose 
misfortune it is to be connected with them. There is another 
disposition, which leads a person to look at his circumstances 
in the best light and so to find great cause for contentment, 
where others would find only cause of complaint. Such a 
disposition has been pronounced to be worth ten thousand 
potiiuls a year. For my part, I tliink it invaluable ; and I 
am sure the person who possesses it, let his outward circum- 
stances be what they may, would make a bad exchange in 
parting with it for the greatest price that could be offered. 
For let it be remembered, that even it it were a kingdom, 
it were but a mixed portion still. The king has his crosses, 
toils, and vexations, as well as the day labourer ; and it is 
aiily by making the best of it, and looking at the bright side 
ol* the picture, that the king can be contented and cheerful 
any more than plain John or Joan. 

29. But what has cheeifulness to do with a good character ? 
a vast deal. It is a sin both against God, our neighbour, and 
ourselves, to be discontented; and not only so, but it would 
stand greaUy in the way of our usefulness and our happiness 
in life. As to taking even a servant or an apprentice witii a 
gloomy, surly, snailing countenance; who should perform 
every service with a grudge, and be always on the watch for 
something to complain of; — why I would, ten to one, ratiier 
do all the work myself, and bear all tiie burden too; — and as 
to taking such a partner for life, I pity tiiose indeed whose 
lot it is — tiiey have need enough of a patient cheerful dis- 
position, to bear up under such a constant wony. Solitude 
for life would be iar preferable, or almost a life spent in walk, 
iug tlie tread-mill at Brixton, than to be tied to such a partner 


No— whether in the kitchen, the workshop, or the nursery; 
above all in seeking happiness for life in a cottage, thats thr 
only disposition to find it, that, under every circumstance^ 
cheerfully admits, ' tlui*gB might have been much worse to. 
day ; and we wil. live in hope of their beitig much better to- 
morrow/ I have often read with pleasure Uie following little 
story : perhaps you will like to read it too. 

30. How to make the best of it, — '' Robinet a peasant of 
Lorrain, after a hard day's work at the next market-town, was 
returning home with a basket in his hand. ^ What a delicious 
supper shall 1 have !' said he to himself. ' This piece of kid 
well stewed down, with my onions sliced, thickened with my 
meal, and seasoned with my salt and pepper, will make a dish 
fit for the bishop of tlie diocese. Then I have a good piece 
of a barley loaf at home to finish with. How I long to be at 

'' A noise in the hedge now attracted his notice, and lie 
spied a squirrel nimbly running up a tree, and popping into a 
hole between the branches. ' Ha !' thought he, ' what a nice 
present a nest of young squirrels will be to my little master! 
Pll try if I can get it.* Upon this, he set down his basket in 
the road, and began to climb up the tree. He had lialf as. 
cended, when casting a look at his basket, he saw a dog with 
his nose in it, ferreting out the piece of kid's flesh. He made 
h\\ possible speed down, but the dog was too quick for him 
and ran off with the meat in his mouth. Robinet looked afle" 
him — * Well,' said he, ' then I must be content with soup 
meagre- — and no bad tiling neither I' 

" He travelle<l on, and came to a little public house by the 
road side, where an acquaintance of his was sitting on a bench 
drinking. He invited Robinet to take a draught. Robinet 
seated himself by his friend, and set his basket on the bencfc 
close by him. A tame raven, which was kept at the house, 
came slily behind him, and perching on the basket, stole away 
the bag in which the meal was tied up, and hopped off with it 
to his hole. Robinet did not perceive the theft till he had 
got on his way again. He returned to search for his bag, but 
could hear no tidings of it. * Well,* says he, ' my soup will be 
the thinner, but I will boil a slice of bread with it, and that 
will do it some good at least.' 

"He went on again, and arrived at a little brook, over 
which was laid a narrow plank, A young woman coming up 
to pass at the same time, Robinet gallantly offered her \vm 
hand. As soon as she got to the middle, either through fear 
or sport, she shrieked out, and cried she was falling. Robinet 


hastening to support her with his other hand, let his aasket 
drop into the stream. As soon as she was sale over, he 
jumped in and recovered it, but when he took it out, he per- 
ceived that all the salt was melted, and the pepper washed 
away. Nothing was now left but the onions. ' Well !' says 
Robinet, ' then I must sup to.night upon roasted onions and 
bai'iey bread. Last night I had the bread alone. To-mor. 
row morning it will not signify what I had. So saying, he 
trudged on, singing as before." 

31. I shall mention but one more essential of a good cha. 
racter. Discretion in the choice of cof/ipaniem^,— especially of 
a companion for life. There is no saying more commonly or 
more justly applied than this — ' Tell me your company, and 
Twill tell you what you are.' Many a young person has lost 
a good situation, or the confidence and respect of their em- 
ployers, from inattention to this ; — many have gone farther 
still, and lost character, virtue, happiness ; all that was worth 
keeping. This seems a proper occasion for observing the ne- 
cessity of cautious propriety of conduct, even where a virtuous 
and prudent attachment may subsist. On these matters de. 
pends much of the happiness of after life. Before marriage, 
both parties are inclined to overlook, or put a favourable con. 
struction upon the conduct of the other : but when the first 
dreams of rapture are over, then each naturally looks back to 
the past ; and if on either side there be recollections of levity 
of conduct before marriage, want of prudence in the choice ol 
associates, or especially any thing like unbecoming liberties 
oifered or admitted; confidence and respect are weakened; 
suspicion is aroused ; and life is embittered. Of this, many af. 
fiecting examples might be given. 

32. Now is the reader disposed to say, ' What a list of in- 
gredients in a good character ! What a string of pre-requisites 
in order to the enjoyment of cottage conafort! It is to be 
hoped they are not all necessary !' Well — ^let us call them 
over; and see which you, for one, would be inclined to dis- 
pense with in a partner for life. 'Integrity.* Would you bt; 
willing to marry the person who had defrauded his or her em- 
ployers ; w. X) would not hesitate to defraud you ; and a con- 
nexion with whom would be the ruin and disgrace of your own 
character ? 'Sincerity,' You would not sui-ely be the willing 
wife or husband of one on whose word you could place no reli- 
ance ; one whose lying tricks would be always in danger of de- 
tection, and when detected, universally despised. ' Prudence,' 
Should you like to place your property, especially your hard> 
earned savings, at the disposal of a rash, inconsiderate person 


wlio would be always running you into some Bxtrayagance or 
error, and always suffeiin^ the opportunity of doing good to ea« 
cape unregarded ? ' Self-denial,* And could you really believe, 
that the peraon loved you, who would make no sacrifice for your 
sake P or could you be happy in uniting yourself for liie to 
one whose selfishness would keep you in perpetual doubt of 
their affection P ' Industry* I need not say much about this — 
for what decent young woman would be so mad as to think of 
marrying a lazy slip-shod sluggard^ who hates work P Or what 
diligent young man would waste a thought upon an idle indo- 
lent slattern, to whom employment is a burden, and whose 
greatest enjoyment is to lie a.bed in the morning, and to sit 
all the day with her hands before her P ' Sobriety* It need not 
be asked if this quality can be dispensed with in a wife. Cer. 
tainly no young woman who stands in the least degree sua. 
pccted of an opposite vice, would be admitted into any re. 
spectable service ; much less would she be likely to obtain or 
retain the affections of any steady young man. But 1 will 
ask any modest discreet young woman, ' Can you bear the 
thought of having a drunkard for your husband P Did you 
ever hear or suspect that the youth of your affections had 
visited a public house, without a thrill of pain and appreheu* 
sion, which fully proved that I have not, in sobriety, set down 
one virtue too many. 'Frugality* And can this be done with- 
out P Is one party willing to earn for the other to squander, or 
to furnish the cottage ^nth comforts to be speedily wasted and 
destroyed P Or do cottagers possess a mine of wealth that 
can constantly furnish new supplies, at the call of extravagance 
and carelessness P No such thing — ^frugality cannot be dis* 
pensed with. * Teachableness* Whatever may have been your 
circumstances hitherto, you cannot expect to be comfortable, 
or to make a respectable appearance in the married life, and 
in a cottage and family of your own, without learning to do 
many things that you have never been accustomed to do be- 
fore. ' Cleanliness* And surely you could not bear the idea of 
sitting down for life in a dog-kennel, or a pig-sty. You might 
as well do that, as share the abode of a human partner whose 
habits are not less filthy and disgusting. ' Subordinatioft,* You 
will, of course, wish that your husband or wife should be will- 
ing to pay you proper respect, and discharge the duties which 
vou consider due to you. The only pledge that can be given 
p that effect must be sought in the due discharge of duties in 
their former relative situations. ' Cheerfulness or contentment* 
I need not waste many words here ; for you would not like to 
mari-y a person whom you could never please, try what you 


would, and who, instead of endeavouring to soothe you, when 
irritated, and to cheer you when depressed, would rather be 
taking occasion, from every pasang circumstance, to be 
gloomy, fretful, and out of humour. And then 'Discretion* in 
conduct and in choice of friends. You could not expect hap. 
pmess from one who would fill your house with light, dissolute, 
disreputable acquaintances; or whose indiscreet conduct 
i»ould expose you to continual suspicions of their fidelity and 

33. So here we end the list ; and I think I have bargained 
for nothing that can be spared ; — ^but if, on the other hand, I 
am told of a young person, whether male or female, who is 
remarkable for strict conscientious integrity ; whose word may 
on all occasions be taken ; whose conduct is uniformly pnu 
dent and correct ; who takes pleasure in making sacrifices to 
pix>mote the happiness of others ; who is active, industrious, 
cleanly, and frugal ; apt to learn ; obedient and affectionate 
to parents ; and very circumspect both in acquaintance and 
demeanour; — why, whoever was seeking a servant, or who- 
ever was looking out for a paitner for life, I should say to 
them at once, ' This is the very person to fill any situation 
with propriety, and to stock any cottage with comforts.' 



Of choosing a Cottage 

34. Now having supposed two worthy young people, pos- 
sessed of the qualifications requisite to form a good character ; 
we will suppose them also to have formed a virtuous attach- 
ment for each other ; and, after suitable deliberation, to have 
oetermined upon a union for life, and to be looking out for a 
cottage, in which to settle. A few hints on this subject may 
be useful. As frequent removals are expensive, inconvenient, 
and destructive to furniture, (poor Richard says, * Three le- 
movals are as bad as a fire,') it will be well tc avoid them by 
choosing such a habitation as is likely to be permanently 

36. There are three things to be principally considered— 
healthy convenience, and capability of improvement. It ih 


evident that a very small house, in a dark confined situation, 
and that has no outlet, cannot be favourable to eitHer ; and 
should therefore, if possible, be avoided. ' This dark confined 
situation, up a dirty alley, will never do for me,* says a pru- 
dent young woman ; ' I should be always ailing, for want of 
pure air, and have to bum candles half the day in winter; 
besides, here is no convenience for washing — ^and I should be 
glad, while my hands are free, to earn a shilling that way, or 
to turn one by putting a few tapes, threads, and cakes in my 
window — but nobody would think of coming here to buy/ 

36. As some or all of these evils mosUy belong to cot- 
tages in large towns, a dwelling out of town is generally to be 
preferred, as tliere is usually more room afforded at a lower 
rent. But this must in part be regulated by the nature and 
situation of the man's employment. If his business is in the 
town, too long a walk morning and evening, and at the hour 
oi dinner, will occasion inconvenience and loss of time. The 
woman must also calculate her time, which will occasionally 
be occupied in going to shop or market. . Evils and advan- 
tages must be fairly balanced against each other; that chpseu 
which appears best on the whole ; and then made the best of 

37. A damp marshy situation is to be avoided ; one that is 
liable to be flooded in the winter season, or one that is sur. 
rounded nitii thick woods. Agues, rheumatisms, and fevers 
are often occasioned thereby. 

38. Water is a most essential accommodation. In some coun- 
try places, great inconvenience and loss of time are occasioned 
by having to fetch water from a great distance ; and much 
disease is produced by using that which is stagnant and impure. 
I don't know any thing more essential to be looked to, in the 
choice of a dwelling, than plenty of good pure water near at 
hand. A pump is far preferable to a well, both for ease and 
safety. If yours is a well, pray see that it is securely 

39. In general that may be reckoned a convenient cottage 
which somewhat answers to the following description. The 
rooms are good sized, light and airy ; the ceilings moderately 
high; the staircase tolerably wide and easy; the roof and 
walls sound and in good repair ; the doors and windows opeo 
and shut properly, so that, on the one hand, air is admitted 
without difiiculty, and on the other hand, wind and rain are 
securely kept out. There are at least two rooms up stairs^ 
one of them with a fire-place ; with less than two rooms a nu- 
merous family cannot be decently and comfortably brought 
up; if three, all the better; we can find a good use fcr it 


hy and bye. In the lower room is a good fire-place, free from 
^onoke — and one or more convenient closets. There is a back 
house, where washing and other wet or dirty work may be 
performed ; and thus the family room kept always dry and 
clean. If in this back house there is a copper and an oven 
all the better ; at least there should be a place where they 
may be easily added. A well or pump we have already said 
is indispensable. And a bit of ground, well secured, where 
linen may be dried, and vegetables raised, is very desirable : the 
80uth.west aspect is the best. A shed for fuel is a desirable 
addition : so also is a pig-sty. And if there is a right of com. 
fiion, where turf and furze may be cut, and a sow, pig, ducks, 
or geese, turned out to graze, it is a farther advantage. The 
nearer your cottage answers this description, the more con- 
venient and comfortable you will find it. If it is very deficient 
in any of these respects, it is proportionably less valuable. 

40. As to the rent that would oe proper to give, it varies so 
much in dififerent places, that nothing can be said in a gene, 
ral work. There are two things to be well considered, — ^what 
it is worth, and what you can afford. As to the first, you had 
better ask the opinion of some judicious impartial friend, who 
has had experience in such matters. As to the latter, without 
by any means wishing to reccmmiend rashness or extravagance, 
I would just hint — donH be too soon caught by a nominally 
low rent. If the place is wretchedly out of repair, or destitute 
of conveniences, or affords you no chance of making any ad- 
vantage either of room or outlet, however low the rent, it may 
prove a very dear bargain. An industrious, thrifty, young 
couple, who have the notion of turning every thing to a good 
account, had better venture a pound or two more in the rent, 
if, by so doing, they can meet with a more convenient and 
advantageous situation 


(Jf taking a CoUage. 

41 Sometimes an agreement may be advantageously 
made with a landlord, to take the cottage for a considembte 
time, and at a moderate rent ; the tenant undertaking repaa:% 




and occasional improyements. In this case^ it should be put 
in thorough repair by the landlord at the outset, or a sum 
allowed for that purpo'sc, (perhaps a year's or half year's rent 
remitted J or a proper abatement made in the rent. Such an 
agreement as this may answer very well, especially if the 
man's trade be such as would qualify him to do the needful 
repairs himself, in his leisure hours ; for instance, a carpenter, 
a plasterer, or a mason ; or indeed any other man, who may 
have acquired the happy art of turning his hand to anything. 
Five or ten pounds allowed in this way to such a man, wdl be 
laid out much more to his own comfort and satisfaction, and 
to the improvement of the premises, than could have been 
done by the landlord, with the same sum. 

42. Such an agreement should be clearly understood by both 
parties — ^what is engaged and what is expected. It is better 
to have it written down, for the satisfaction of both : there are 
many little things that may slip the memory, and occasion 
disputes. Beside, either party may die — and in that case it 
is right that there should be something to show to those who 
come after them, — what they really did agree to — how long a 
term the cottage is let for — what rent is to be paid, and when 
— what grates or other fixtures belong to the house — ^whether 
the tenant has liberty to move them or exchange them — ^whe- 
tliar he may stop up a window, or open a new one — ^what re- 
pairs are expected from the tenant — and whether he is 
entitled to any allowance, at leaving, for improvements that 
he may have made — ^whether the land-tax or quit-rent is to 
be paid by landlord or tenant. It is not much trouble or ex- 
pense to get all this written and properly signed ; and it may 
save a vast deal of trouble or expense, at some future time. 

43. It is desirable in spending any thing, whether money 
or labour, on another person's property, to have some security 
that the enjoyment shall be our own. This may easily bt 
obtained by the young couple whose respectable character ] 
have portrayed. Any landlord will be glad to have such te- 
nants; and an upright honourable man, will readily afford 
them any security of that kind that tliey can reasonably de- 
aire. If they should not be personally known to the landlord 
of the house they wish to occupy, the young man's employei 
Of the master in whose service the young woman lived so re- 
spectably, will readily speak a good word for them ; and, ii 
needful, will most likely even become responsibleYor the re- 
gular payment of the rent. An established chaeracter is prou 
perty of the most valuable kind ; and will be found so any 


44. If the cottage you have fixed upon, stands empty, leave 
to occupy it may generally be obtained, the rent not com- 
mencing until the next quarter day. Thus you gain a >veek 
or two^ or perhaps a month, in which to do the needful repairs 
and get it in order. And this is a great object to you, as yoa 
are to do the repairs yourself, perhaps assisted by some good, 
natored work.fellow, in the branch which he understands 
better than you do ; under the engagement that you will do 
as much for him another time. Neither of you can je there 
every day, and all day long ; and it would be grievous to be 
paying rent before you fairly lived in the place. 


Of entering upon tlie Cottage. 

45, I HAVE proceeded upon the supposition that my young 
friends wish to begin life upon a decent respectable plan. 
They might, to be sure, as many have doneTbefore them, make 
shift at first with one room, to eat, sleep, and work in — ^it 
might be furnished ' with an old bedstead, a few rickety chairs, 
a table, and a broken hutch; a rusty kettle, and a few 
cracked plates and platters, pots and pans :' and there they 
might stive, and toil, and drudge, just to continue, for they 
could not hope to better their existence; and there they 
might bring into being a miserable race, with scarcely a 
chance of emerging from their native filth and wretchedness, 
fiut I take it for granted, that no such beginning will satisfy 
my readers. They are respectable young people, who have 
established a good character, and with prudent care have 
saved something from the earnings of their youthful days, to 
begin the married life with. 

46. I am studying for them to enjoy as many comforts as 
tlieir present circumstances will prudently afford them ; and 
that they should still be inspirited with the hope of bet- 
tering their condiuon in life. This hope, I know very well, 
is, as a sensible writer has expressed it,-|- ' beneficial to tlie 

t Slaiiey. 


community^ as irell as advantageous to the individual. It 
cheers him in adversity; it encourages his industry; it pro. 
motes his content' I shall here give you a few more of his 
remarks; both because they are sensible and suitable, and 
because they prove that all who recommend contentment to 
the poor, do not, (as some writers to whom I alluded in para- 
graph 5 would insinuate,) teach them to be content with po- 
verty ; or to think that religion requires them to be so. ' It 
is desirable that the working classes should be frugal, indus- 
trious, and contented ;-<-contented, not with wretchedness and 
dirt, merely because their forefathers have been used to them 
—but contented with those comforts which are within reach 
of their own industry, care, and forethought — and contented 
with nothing less ; endeavouring to provide in youth against 
the wants of their old age ; provident against illness or loss of 
employment, thsy should depend upon their own exertions 
for support.* * The scale of comfort and convenience which 
a labourer has been accustomed to think necessary, determines 
the time of marriage. He waits till he has attained what the 
opinion of his. own class around him hia deemed decent and 
fitting. The higher this scale of public opinion is kept, the 
better and the happier will the people be. It is widely dif. 
ferent, in different countries. In Ireland, a pig, and a mud 
cabin, without window or furniture, is held sufficient ; in Po- 
land very Httle more is required. But in England, Scotland, 
HoUand, and Switzerland, the decencies of life are better ob- 
served ; and a young couple require at least a cottage, ¥Fith 
some furniture, and implements of husbandry (or other trade.) 
The wish which many of the poor entertain, to buy a clock 
before they marry, to them a very expensive piece of fumi. 
ture, has been by some regarded as ridiculous. But the effect 
of this wish is highly useful ; it gives them something before, 
hand in the world, and habits of self-denial and industry to 
obtain it.* 

47. 'Fanaticism,' is a favourite word with some writers, 
when they wish to make it appear, (than which they know 
nothing is more false,) that writers who recommend religion, 
do so with a view to keep people contented in a state of des. 
titution, slavery, and misery. But fanaticism is a hcutl word* 
and I shall have nothing to do with it. Wlnoever preaches, 
bear witness I do not, nor do I believe, ' that to be poor and 
wretched is any mark of God's favour ;' nor would I have any 
man remain in that state, if by any honest means^ he can 


rescue himself from it ; and I believe most, if not all, reaaoiu 
Me and religious people would say the same. But we shall 
speak about religion by and bye. Let us go on now with 
getting our cottage reaidy to inhabit ; and as ' prevention is 
better than cure/ and it is easier to begin in a respectable 
creditable way, and go on steadily improving, than it is to 
get out of a state of wretchedness, after having once been ac- 
customed to it, it is that which makes me so anxious for a 
good beginning. 

48. Well, then — I conclude that my industrious careful 
young labourer, or workman, and his intended partner, in her 
respectable service, have each laid by a few pounds at least 
to begin the world with. Now let it be put to a good account, 
and made the best of. I should be sorry to see the example 
followed of an industrious, but headstrong young woman, 
whom I knew, who, having formed an attachment contrary to 
the advice of all her Mends, when the banns of marriage were 
published, drew out her savings, amounting to upwards of 
twenty pounds, with which she purchased furniture — but be- 
fore the marriage took place, she had a quarrel with her 
sweetheart, and the match was broken on. She had ne 
where to put her furniture, nor any prospect of wanting it; 
so she sold it, part to her acquaintance, and part at a broker's 
shop ; for the whole of it she got eight pounds, which she 
once more laid by, and went to service again ; having paid 
upwards of twelve pounds for her freak. 

49. I shall suppose that you have got the cottage to repair 
yourselves, and the garden to put in order. Now a great 
deal depends upon managing and tiining things welL For 
instance, if it is the spring of the year, when the garden wants 
cropping, donH let the time slip— just dig up the ground, sow 
your onions and carrots, plant your potatoes, and prick out 
vour cabbages — they will be growing without your care and 
labour, while you repair your house. But if you do your 
house first, you must go without a crop for that year. Ob*, 
serve too, to do out of doors work whife the weather is fine — 
you can work in doors when it rains. 

50. One of the first things to be done is to make good all 
the fences — ^it would be very grievous if, for want of this, a 
neighbour's pig, or other animal, should get in and destroy 
all your labour. 

51. The next thing I would think of, is some posts for youf 
wife to dry her linen. I speak now to the young man, as 1 
expect it will be chiefly his cxre to get the place to rights. 
A ad, once for all, I say to both whatever you can contrive 


for the comfort of your partner, it will be well 'jestowed; It 
will stiiDiilate to iiidustiy, promote good humour, aud cemenl 
affection. Oak posts are very expensive ; but I will tell you 
of something very cheap, that will answer just as well. If 
you get some fresh cut, strait willow poles, about as thick as 
your arm, cut oiT all the twigs, except about half a dozen just 
round the top, which may be left five or six inches in length, 
dig a hole at the corners of your garden, and set in the posts ; 
put them as much as a foot in the ground, set them fast witli 
large stones, and fill up the mould round them ; aud there 
you have good, strong, living, growing posts, that wili serve 
you for many years — this I know by experience. The twigs 
at top will sei*ve to fix the line by. It is better to have them 
high enough, and strong enough ; the labour is no more, and 
the cost no great difference. If they are nine cr ten feet 
above the ground, it is none too much ; the linen will not be 
so likely to di'ag, nor yet to injure your currant and goose- 
beiTy bushes. 

52. While you are about it; you might as well stick in a 
couple more posts, in any pleasant part of your garden, which, 
witli a few ash poles to bend over, and a woodbine, or even a 
iew nasturtiums to train around them, will make a pretty ar. 
bour for you aud your wife to take a cup of tea in sununer 
time — ^raany a happy hour have I passed under such a one. 
You will perhaps be too busy to put a seat there just now; 
a couple of chairs will do ; and you can contrive the otlier at 
your leisure. I shall say no more about the garden at pre- 
sent : but will give you a calendar suited to a cottagei^'s gar- 
den, when you are settled, and have time to attend to it. 

53. Now we are come in doors — and here, let tliat be done 
first which will take longest to dry ; any thing of plasteiing 
that may be required. It would be sad for either of you to 
be laid up with the rheumatism, through coming into a damp 
house. Let all work, too, that makes a dirt, (such as grate 
setting, altering a window or door, &c.) be done before any 
of the cleaner work, painting, or white washing. It is very 
vexatious to have things dirtied almost before they are clean- 
ed ; and a great pity when this is the case for want of planning 
and timing things properly. 

54. A word on the subject of grates. If there are none 
already Axed, as may be the case if it is a new. built cottage, 
pray see that you choose a good sort of grate, and have it 
well fixed. If there are grates of the old fashioned sort, sot 
far back, and the chimney left wide, I think a little money will 
be well bestowed in exchanging them. I do not object t o 


them on account of their being old iashioned ; but thefr con- 
suming a vast quantity of fuel, and thro^wing out very little 
heat. I have in my back kitchen, a pretty little grate, which 
costy new, 26$. and 1 1«. for setting. I wish there were just 
such an one in every cottage in the kingdom. It contains 
a small oven, heated without any additional fuel, in which 
may be baked a pudding, pie, cake, or small joint of meat — 
many a threchalfpence this has saved. For a few shillings 
more, you might have a boiler on the other side, by which 
you are constantly supplied with warm water. I have one of 
that kind also : it is considerably larger, and cost nearly four 
pounds — but the other throws out a good heat, and serves all 
the summer to cook, (roast, boil, bake, and fry,) for a family 
of six or eight persons. And as to filing, it will bum any 
thing ; and this is a great object where wood and coals are 
dear : when it is once thoroughly lit up, it requires nothing bet. 
t^r than cinders or small coals, except for I'oasting. I'his 
kind of grate is called a Yorkshire grate. If you should be 
uiclined to buy one, let me again recommend you to employ 
a workman to set it, who thoroughly understands his business. 
The drawing up of the fire, heat of the oven, and freedom 
fi'om smoke, depend greatly upon the grate being properly 
fixed, and the chimney properly contracted. 

66. If it should be your wife's intention to take in a little 
washing, the expense both of a copper and an ironing stove, 
will be money saved in the end. Indeed, a copper, I consider 
absolutely requisite to the comfort of a cottage, as will be 
abundantly seen, when we come to speak about home-brewed 
beer. A copper, containing twenty gallons, may be heated 
at less expense of fuel, than a pot, containing six gallons, can 
be boiled over the fire ; especially in one of the old fashioned 
fire places; — the same may be said of heating irons and dry. 
ing linen, by a stove or before a fire. These things, to be 
sure, are expensive to buy at first; but they are more easily 
obtained at first, than at any future time, and the cost is soon 
saved in fire and labour. A German stove, to answer your 
purpose, may be bought for about a pound, — and a large brass 
skillet, or kettle, may oflen be bought cheap, second-hand, 
and does admirably well to set as a copper. I have no doubt 
but you might get one, that, including iron work, fixing, and 
lid, should not cost you above two pounds. You may get a 
tidy little grate, for your bed room, and have it set, for about 
eight or ten shillings. 

66. * But how the expense runs up !* you say, * here*s a 
matter of six or seven pounds gone^ before a stick of furniture 


is thoQght of/ But, recollect, my friend, theie t&n^s tM 
your oum ; you pay your landlord less rent than you wonict 
have done if he had furnished them , and I will answer for the 
money being soon saved in fuel and in comfort, considering* 
the difference between these and the awkward old fashioned 
chimney places. So it is only paying a little beforehand, 
while you can best spare it, and enjoying the comfort of it by 
and bye, when you most want it. I mention these things now, 
because, if you intend to hare them; now is the time for fixings 
your copper and grates, and making a hole above your kitchen 
fire-place, for admitting the tube of your stove — which, you 
will observe, is not always to stand littering your kitchen ; but 
when out of use, may be easily taken to pieces, and put in any 
dry place. You will have a tin thing made, like a saucepan 
lid, to fit close into the hole over the chimney place. 

57. If you should have occasion to add, or to remove a 
vindow, please to pay attention to the following sensible re> 
marks from an author already quoted \* — ' Windows i^ould 
be placed high up, and be always made to open wide, and at 
top, especially in bed rooms ; so as to give an exit, towards 
the top of the room, to the heated air, which always ascends^ 
This simple precaution is too often neglected, even in tbe- 
mansions of the rich ; and in case of fever or other infections 
disorder, it is of the utmost consequence.' 

58. When the mason's dirty rubbish is cleared away, the next' 
thing is, thoroughly to whitewash all the rooms and ceilings' 
— then any little painting that may be required — and last <^ 
all, to mend any glass windows that may have been broken. 

59. Now begin the good woman's operations. She knows, 
too well to need my instructions, how to proceed. And idi6 
who has taken such pleasure and pride in doing things as 
they ought to be done, in her master^s house, will not, I am 
certain, be satisfied with her own cottage, till ^e windows arb 
as clear as crystal — ^the grates black and shining as jet — and 
the floors as white as a curd. But, for the benefit of any who 
may not have been used to very good habits, or, perhaps, 
whose work has been chiefly of a diflerent kind, shall I just 
venture to say, — that if to the best black-lead is added an equal 
quantity of, the cost will be materially lessimed, 
and the grates appear much blacker — ^that, if mixed with a 
little small beer, (not sour,) they will look much brighter, and 
keep longer free from rust, than when the blacking is wetted 
with milk or water — that, in cleaning: the windows^ the chief 


* Slaincy. 


tlung 18 io rob theih lightly^ with h scxft cloth^ tloroughly dry 
— oimI that, in scouring the boards, a little mason's dust an;. 
svers just as well as soap, and is a yast deal cheaper P at 
coarse, they mast be well rinsed afterwards, and wiped with a 
dry coarse cloth.. 

<i»^ y #i#<#<#i<i>###i # i^i^##»* 

Of furnishing the CoHe^ge^ 

60. And now for the furniture. Let it be substantial and plain« 
After wcH-king hard, and denying yourselves, to save the money^ 
you would hardly like to spend it upon showy giracracks. 
Bedchng is the first essential — with thb you can hardly be too 
well stored. Those who have money in hand, and time to 
look out, may sometimes meet with a good article cheap at a 
sale — but this requires considerable judgment and caution* 
I have heard of some young women, who carefully saved and 
dried all the feathers of poultry they picked while in service, 
and got enough to make them a bed, bolster, and pillows. 
Little hoards of almost any kind may now be brought into 
use ; and a great pleasure there is in finding oneself possessed 
of useful comforts, owing to preserving those little things, 
which a careless person would have thrown away. I know a 
young woman who has a handsome bed^quilt, the pieces of 
which were purchased entirely with the produce of her rag 
bag, smd joined together at odd minutes of time. 

61 . It is not my intention to give you a description, or a 
catalogue of household requisites — you must cut your coat ac« 
cording to your cloth. If your united st(»re in the Saving^a 
Bank is but twenty pounds, you must be content without 
many things that fifty might have afforded. But whether yon 
have the smaller or the larger sum to dispose of, let the large 
expensive articles, especially such as you hope to make in any 
way profitable, be first secured ; and rather trust to futurity 
for two or three or half a dozen, four or five shilling articles, 
than for one of a pound or two. I mean, that you had bettef 
provide yo\awM now with a good bed, (or two if you can,) a 
good chest of drawers, or something to answer the purpose, 
plenty of utensils for washing, iron'^ng, and brewing, even 

c 3 


though you diould run short of a tea boa^ * ^*^^al 
thinli. I pair of candlesticks a wanning pan, aoU sevei 

presents will most likely faU among ^'t^^Z^^^j^ther 
Lmed. or similar ones : and if young Mis« «houU^r^t^e 

faithful servant with a set of tea things, "f^.g^ ^^^dTbe 
a pair of candlesticks, and so on, how mortifymg it wouio^ 

to have to say, 'I have two of this ^>?S' "?to^ Seb^f^ 
which I nright have done without, in hadbutkno^^e^^J 

tention ; and the money together would )»^Y^l^^°f° Then, 
or such'a tiling, which we are in such SH^Ull^^'m^ 
again, it is very likely, that with diligence ?^°,^' 5.°", "^ 
bl able, every now and then, to add one of *^ f«"^' ^^ 
shilling articles : but it is by no means so ^'^^V^^y^ 
should be able, at any future time to <=<"^P?f*^"^ ^j^ 
lai^er-and then, above all. it is Ae large *m^ "^^^^ 
you may expect to make some htde gain- not the small 

'"'^. Suppose, for instance, you furnish a second Jed roo^ 
(and unleS this is done, it is very likely you may find jo^^^^ 
greatly straitened and inconvenienced before «; y^*' *"^J.?°* 
round.) you have the means of making somethmg by lettong 
it as long as it suits you to spare it. Some decent «»» "«y 
generally be found, glad of such an opportumty ; (ot couree, 
you wUl make proper inquiry into his character, Uiat ne is a 
sober regular man, and one that may be depended on ;J as ne 
goes out to work, he will be no inconvenience to you. Be- 
side, (as the good woman observes.) it is no more trouble to 
cook for three than for two; and he will pay something 
additional for that accommodation : and there is his wasli- 
iiig and mending; something is to be got by these, ana 
while her hands are free, she might as well do it as let it 
alone. Now if this brought in but three shillings a week, the 
second bed would have paid itself in the course of a year: 
and. if devoted to that purpose, would have enabled you to 
add almost as many as you could desire, of those second sort 
of comforts tuid decencies, which I am by no means against 
your possessing ; but which, if you had spent twenty pounds 
•jpon them at first, would never have brought you in twenty 

t 64. I have already huited at brewng at home ; and this J 


P'jpe you will do, and begin to do it from tlie first, b«caii8% 
IQ quite sure (and I don't doubt of convincing you of it by 
ftiid bye,) that if you fetch your beer from a public house on^ 
one year, in that year you will have paid at the public house, 
ns much as would have bought malt and hops for bettor beer 
brewed at home, and a good set of breviing tackle into the 
barg^ain. The copper we have settled will cost about two 
pounds, you may set that to the score of the brewing if you 
please, but it will answer also for washing, and for the general 
comfort of the cottage beside — and independently of this, 
three pounds will completely set you up with tubs, casks, and 
other requisites — all this you will find calculated in a future 
|)aragraph. — A few shillings, perhaps a pound, may be saved if 
two cottagers, who live near each other, and are both of kind 
accommodating dispositions, choose to unite in the purchase 
of the larger tubs, but as this kind of agreement sometimes 
leads to disagreements, it is perhaps better if you can manage 
it, lo have them entirely your own at first. 

65. A few hints as to the nature of furniture shall close this 
chapter. In household goods, I certainly approve ' the wami, 
the strong, and the durable,' as much as any one can do, and 
yet I cannot go all the lengtlis of some writers in crying down 
every ' bit of miserable deal board,' and preferring pewter or 
wood for plates, dishes, mugs, and such like. There is no- 
thins: so cheap, or so pleasant, to eat and drink out of as 
crockery ; nothing so easily kept clean, and with care (the 
very habit of which is an advantage, both to parents and 
children,) they will serve for many years. No wood does so 
well as deal for an ironing board, the heat draws out a stain 
from every other kind. Oak tables are very durable to be 
sure, but they are heavy and expensive. If you have * in, 
herited them from your great grandfathei^,' it is all very well ; 
but if you have to buy, I think a good substantial deal table, 
(not a flimsy sale made thing,) answers every purpose; is 
much lighter and pleasanter, and with care, will serve your 
children after you. 

66. I do not prefer deal for drawers — perhaps you may 
meet with a good chest, second hand, of oak, wadnut tree, or 
even mahogany, which not being of a modern make, will 
sell as cheap or cheaper than you could buy deal ones fon 
In this case, be particular in pulling out every drawer, an<{ 
looking at the backs, to see that they are not worm-eaten—- 
observe also that there is no close unpleasant smell about 
them; tliis proceeds from bugs, a filtliy insect with which 
furoitui'e in London and other close places, is often infested 



but irhicli is scarcely known in a cleanly, airy, country hous^. 
This obsenration holds good with respect to any second-hand 
ftirnitare, especially bedsteads. 

67 If you have curtains to your bed, and buy them new, 
the best, (and cheapest in the end) are linen check harrateen. 
They keep clean a long time, wash well, and do not harbour 
vermin, wnich woollen hangings are very apt to do. Printed 
cottons for bed furniture are cheap enough now, but they are 
very thin and flimsy, and do not wash so well as what I have 
recomntended — ^something considerable is gained also in the 
width, harrateen being at least one eighth of a yard wider 
than the yard-wide prints. — A very excellent one may be 
bought for one shilling per yard, something less by the pie<^e. 
If with a mixture of cotton or woollen, for eightpence or 
liinepence, but these do not wear or wash half as well. 

68. Calico is much used now for sheets, as well as for body 
Knen. It comes cheap at first, to be sure, but that is its only 
recommendation; 'No,* say some,' it is so warm;* just at first 
h may be, but not half so wholesome as linen. After having 
been slept in, it retains a dampness which on using it again, 
strikes a chill over the frame — aud when calico has lost its 
first thick woolly feel, and become a little tlu-eadbare, which 
it very soon does, it does not give any warmth at all. The 
best kind of sheets is homespun, unbleached. They will be- 
come white enough in time, but for my part, I like them better 
while they retain their brownness. I have some capital good 
ones, that have been in constant use sixteen years; they cost 
eighteen shillings a pair at first; the same may be bought 
for less money now. I might perhaps have bought calico for 
six or seven shillings a pair, but they would have been worn 
out three or four times over in that length of time, and new 
ones to be made : beside, the calico washes so yellow, and 
looks shabby and beggarly. I would not change my brown 
sheets, after sixteen years wear, for new calico ones now. 

69. Even hessens wrappering makes very decent sheets, far 
preferable to calico, and may often be bought cheap. A 
managing young woman, when she goes to the shop for these 
articles, will take care to look about her, and see if there be 
any remnants by which she can make an advantage. Saving 
sixpence or a shilling by having a join, which a good needle 
woman can do in half an hour, is not to be despised ; or get. 
ting a bit of stuff in--^it will be sure to come m use for a 
knife cloth, or a house cloth, or something of that kind. You 
should ask the shopkeeper also, to give you some thread or cot- 
ton, to make up your sheets. The person who does not look 


hAer these little advantagesy of course does not obtain themi 
But this is an expensive time, this furnishing house; it 
sharpens ones wits, and brings to mind the old proverb, ' a 
penny saved is a penny got.' 

70. As to the down-stairs furniture, chairs of yew or oak^ 
are rery durable, and if kept bright, look always good and 
handsome ; this must be as you can afford. Chairs with rush 
bottoms, are always wearing out. I don't at all recommend 
these. A good beechen chair nicely scoured always looks well 
wd lasts long ; but even the common cottage chairs, with 
ashen frames and wicker seats, do vastly well, and comi 
cheaper than any thing. There is no occasion to have a great 
number of chairs— you do not want a house full of company^ 
and when the young ones come on, a bench is the best thing 
for them to sit on ; but it is time aiough to think about that 
a few years hence. 

71. A good copper tea-kettle is the most durable, (this is 
an article I don't luiow how to persuade you to do without, 
though some writers cry out bitterly against it) The round 
shape will be two or three shillings cheaper than the oval, and 
bears mending better. It is not quite so fashionable, but that 
you have too much good sense to mind. The beauty of a 
copper ketUe, is in its durability and brightness, not its shape ; 
and the two or three shillings saved, will buy you a handy 
little saucepan, or gridiron, or frying pan ; these two last ar» 
tides, no matter how seldom they are used, yet most people 
like to have such things in their house. 

72. You should have two strong iron pots, of different sizes ; 
one or other of which, I hope, will be in frequent use. I 
would wish a working man to have a bit of something hot 
most days ; one pot might do, but not so well, for this reason, 
you cannot boil any thing large in a small pot ; and though 
you might boil what is small in a large one, there would, by 
so doing, be more firing and time taken up than is necessary. 
For any very nice particular purpose, such as boiling milk, 
starch, or gruel, there is nothing answers better than bell, 
metal or brass, which also lasts long. 

^ 73. A Nottingham-ware pot, with a lid, to hold a gallon or 
tiro, is very use^l ; especially if you have an oven : it does 
veil to make a stew or soup, on which I shall give you a hint 

74. Your bucket (or pail) if well painted inside and out, will 
last much the longer. 

75. For washing dishes, I would advise you to buy at the 
fishmonger's, two salmon kits, which you may have for seveiu 


pence or eight])ence each : an iron hoop or two added to each 
will bring Uiem to about one shilling. Let one be kept for 
washini^ your dishes^ and the other for rinsing them ; they will 
serve for years, and prevent both greasing a bucket, or other 
vessel that you use for clean purposes, and breaking your 
plates by doing them in an earthen pan. I need not tell a 
tidy woman that these must be scrubbed well every time after 

76. Brooms and brushes are very expensive, yet they can- 
not well be done without. I would advise you to buy at 
iirst, a set of such as are really good, and then make much of 
them, keeping them in a clean dry place, and saving them as 
much as possible by the following, or other like contrivances ; 
a good wisp of hay or straw, wall serve many purposes lor 
which a scrubbing brush is used ; so will a bunch of heath. 
When you take a walk in the summer, it is no trouble to bring 
home a few handfuls, whicTi, when they have slowly dried, 
you can bind up in small bundles, either with the bark of 
willow, or with a bit of waxed packthread, (like what the 
^oemakers use,) and you will find them continually useful. 
A very good and durable mop may be made with the cuttings, 
which aie sold cheap, by blanket or carpet manufacturers. 
A good wisp of straw, laid at the door, will invite those who 
come into the house to wipe their feet, and save the good 
woman needless labour and vexation ; or it is very easy to 
learn how to weave rushes, and it would be quite an amuse- 
ment for the evening to keep the door supplied with mats ; a 
piece of matting, too, just by the fireplace would be comfort- 
able. A scraper at each door might be furnished at no ex- 
pense, and very little trouble; a bit of iron hoop lodged into 
two strong sticks, split a little way down, and fixed into the 
ground, answers every purpose. Who would be without such 
cheap contiivances, and see the cottage dirty, the wife dis- 
heartened and vexed, and at last, perhaps, the husband 
too, thrown out of temper and driven to thti public house, 
when all might have been prevented at so little cost and 
trouble ? 

77. And let me close, by observmg, tliat a cottage sur- 
rounded with these little decent thrifty contrivances, com- 
mands among the more thinking neighbours, in all classes of 
ftociety, a respect for its inhabitants, who so evidently respect 
tliemselves. A dii*ty slatternly gossip, will feel herself ex« 
eluded from visiting such a cottage; its inhabitants are a race 
above her, and those of a higher class will feel themselves 
invited to supjport such neighbours, by tlieir countemmce and 


employ ineut, and to offer them every neighbourly BflStttance 
in case of sickness or calamity. 

Of Income and Expenditure. 

78. Our young friends have now, we supppose, taken and 
furnished their cottage^ and set up housekeeping. Now here 
is rent to be paid, and food, and fuel, and many other wants 
to be provided for ; and a young family to be looked forward 
to : and how are all these expenses to be met P Why, accord, 
ing to the proverb, ' Industry must make a purse, and frugality 
find strings for it/ Those who begin life with a desire and 
determination, as far as in them lies, at Jeast to keep up)n 
even ground, and if possible to better their condition in life, 
have three things to attend to, 1. To earn as much as they 
can. — ^2. To spend as little as they can. — 3. To make them- 
selves as comfortable as they can with that little. 

79. There are three qualities then to be called into constant 
exercise — ^industry, frugality, and good management So 
now you perceive the necessity (pointed out in the beufinning 
of this book) of being early formed to those habits. It is not 
to be expected that those who have been all their young days 
idle, extravagant, and heedless, should jump at once into con. 
trary habits. Marriage will not produce these habits, though 
it will stnkingly display the want of them. Without them^ 
it is quite impossible that persons among the labouring classes 
of society, should be happy in the married life. Industry 
comes first ; we will point out to the industrious cottager a 
few schemes which may be resorted to for bettering his in. 

80. We suppose the man to be in constant employ as a la. 
bourer or journeyman. If the latter, a thrifty man, through 
the summer half of the year, makes seven days to the week, 
(not by working on the Sabbath, there is no occasion for this: 
he ought to have one day of rest ; set aside any thing of a 
higher nature, which will all come in its place,) but by work- 
ing an hour earlier in the morning, and an hour later in tJie 


eirening — Grojsk fire till seTen, instead of from m tiH mx. 
Any healthy man may do this, and have plenty of time for 
rest besides. 

81. If he is a good workman, he will often get a little job 
to do at home. An active ingenious man, will also have in 
hand some useful article or other for domestic convenience, 
in the way of making or repairing. This is to be done at a 
time when he has not an opportunity of direct earning ; and 
then, if what he does lightens his wife's labour, so that she is 
enabled to earn the more, or furnishes the family with some 
needful comfort, for which money must have gone out of the 
house, it is fairly to be set down as so much gained.' I know 
a young man, not a carpenter by trade, but of an ingenious 
tuin, who in his leisure hours, made a very pretty little bed- 
stead for his child ; and a woman in the habit of washing at 
my house, if she saw a hinge or a handle off of almost any 
article, would say, ' Pll take that home and get my husband 
to put it together, he is a very handy m,an ;' tliis was not done 
to be paid for — but they never lost any thing by it : beside, 
the habit is so good of not enduring to see any thing go to 
min for want of a stitch, that persons who possess it, save 
themselves pounds and pounds in course of time. 

82. The workman or labourer who contrives in his leisure 
hours to cultivate his bit of garden — who builds a shed for 
fuel, a pig-stye, a hen-roost, or rabbit-hutch, and attends to 
these animals, which are all sources of profit, or who brings 
home a burden of wood,* or turf or furze from the common, 
must reckon that he earns what those things would have cost; 
and with this additional advantage, that he earns them when 
it suits him to spare the time ; but if he had them to pay for, 
it must be done whether it suited him or not, or the family 
distressed for ^nt of it. 

, 83. Now what can the woman do to help out their income ? 
Oh a hundred things, if she has but a good portion of docity 
or gumption ; that is, if she has got the use of her wits, and the 
use of her hands. I have already hinted at her taking in a 
little washing, in par. 8, 56, and supposed her to be furnished 
with conveniences for that purpose. If she had lived long in 
her place, and had been in the habit of getting up her master's 
shirts and mistress's caps, and the young ladies' white dresses, 

'* Honestly obtained, I take it for granted— it is aa established 
maxim, that <Hov^sty is the best policy.' I am speaking now of la- 
buurers of good character, and only wish to shew the resources which 
industry opens, but which indolence overlooks. 


^ is ten to one if they get them done to their hking eise 
where, and ihey will very likely be sent for her to do ; or nt 
any rate, her mistress, to whom she has given satisfaction, will 
reftdily recommend her to any friends she may have who put 
OQt their washing. A thoroughly good hand may almost 
always get employ ; and that kind of washing which is mostly 
pat oat, is that which pays the best. A managing woman 
who takes it in to do, will at least make it pay for all thu 
soap, fuel, &c. as well as for her own labour, and thus she 
gets her own family washing, free. She nrast have used as 
much firing, and nearly as much soap, if she had only dont 
her own. 

84. Needlework is reckoned a very dead penny. I do 
sappose it is — but it is at any rate better than being idle, and 
it should be remembered that it does not wear out or dirt the 
(lothes like more laborious work. 

85. Lace-making I do call a dead penny indeed ; the poor 
women who - live by it, look like walking spectres. I nave 
been assured by a family who were all brought up to lace- 
making, that the whole of thebr diet consisted of potatoes and 
tea — that they never rose from their pillow even to take a 
meal — but that the first thing in the morning, their mother 
put on the tea.kettle, and the Hatoe-pot, and brought them 
•ome whenever they were ' a hungerea/ filling up the tea-pot 
ds often as it became empty, throughout the day ; and that br 
^is close and ruinous a[^lication, they earned barely enough 
fe this wretched supply of food, and just a Sundays' gown 
once in two years or so. The appearance and wardrobe of 
^at family^ and of lace.makers in general, confirms the state- 
ment No wonder they are a miserable, palcfaced, puny set ; 
the prey of hysterics, vapours, and spasms — quite helpless 
sad notionless in common things, and utterly unfit to bear, 
»«ar, or manage a family. I do not, of course, recommend 
lace-making to eke out the income of the cottager's wife. 

86. Of knitting I think very diflTerently. It is work that 
^y be taken up and laid down in a moment. A set of 
needles may be bought for a penny, and a ball of worsted for 
Miotlier. It may be done at any light, or with a child in the 
fi^TOs, and when you are tired of stirring work, knitting serves 
very well for a rest. In summer time, you can take a walk 
m your garden, and knit as you go — and a pair of knit stock. 
^, when they are done (at little odds and ends of time) are 
JJ^orth at least three pair of the best wove ones that you can 
Jwy. A thrifty cottagei*s wife has no stockings for her hus- 
\)aiM\ or herself but what she knits, at least until she lia^ 


children old enough to do them for her. A gooa kmcter i^% 
may generally get employnent if she chooses to take it in. 
And if the scraps of time so employed add but sixpence to her 
weekly income, it is not to be despised. She may sit and 
blow the fire, long enough before she finds sixpence in the 
ashes, or loll over her hatch long enoug}i before she sees one 
roll down the street. 

87. Binding of shoes is generally performed by women, 
and one who acquires the habit of doing it neatly, and expe. 
ditiously, may generally get good employment at the best 

88. If a young wife has an opportunity of going out for a 
day's work in a respectable family, I think it is a pity she 
should neglect it, or fancy herself above it. She is well fed 
through the day, has her shilling or fifteen pence clear to bring 
home at night, and often a supper for herself and her husband ; 
beside, there is an advantage in keepmg up a connexion with 
such familieS'-you have a friend in case of sickness or diffi. 

89. In case the good woman should adopt this mode of 
eanployment, I would caution her to be careful that it inter- 
feres as little as possible with the husband's comforts. If he 
comes in day after day to a cold littered house, and finds only 
bread and cheese for dinner, perhaps has even to go and buy 
that, he will soon become dissatisfied; and even the gains 
produced in the evening, will scarcely set him to rights. A 
little management will prevent all this; in the first place, let 
it be remenibered the day before, and a bit of bacon boiled-^ 
or some other provision made; then instead of the house 
being in a litter, because the mistress is not at home, let her 
be doubl)' careful to leave every thing in order, every thing in 
its place, that|.the good man may lay his hand upon it easily. 
In winter time, when it would be miserable for him to dine 
without a fire, let the fire be banked up, either with small 
coals or cinders,, or with turves, which will smother on for 
hours, and soon draw up on being stirred. It is one advantage 
of the grates I recommended, that a slow fire may be ke|>^ 
for many houra, and made to draw up just when you please. 
If you think it safer or more economical, you can leave the 
fire laid but not lighted, and put the and matches 
dose at hand, that the good man when he comes in, may 
flrike and light it without difficulty — ^when you have children 
old enough to be left at home, let it be one of their first les- 
sons to do their utmost for their father's comfort, especially iA 
your absence. 


90. When your family is small, and keeps you constantly 
at home, you may sometimes meet with a neighbour who 
goes out to work, and is glad to pay sixpence a day for having 
her child taken care of; you perhaps will be glad to under^ 
take it. If nursing is your work, you might as well manage 
three or four children as two— that is, if you are a good ma. 
nager, and know how at once to keep them happy, and make 
them mind you ; but of this, more hereafter. 

91 . Among other sources of income, if you are a thoroughly 
handy needlewoman, you might often make a shilling without 
much hazard, by buying a cheap little remnant of calico^ 
print, or stuff, making it upiu to a frock, petticoat, pin.before, or 
bonnet, and exhibiting them in your window — some neighbour 
who is not so handy will soon be glad to buy it. I have 
known this to answer particularly well in countiy places, a 
handy notable woman gets as much as she can do, and pre. 
fers it to going out and leaving her family. 

92. Another way in which the woman may make her la. 
hour extremely profitable, is in the management of the garden. 
She may easily acquire skill and experience, and for my part, 
I think she can't have a prettier amusement. Now some 
people cry out to a cottager, that he should raise nothing but 
potatoes in his garden ; and others say, potatoes are not fit 
for man to eat. I differ from both. I think potatoes are very 
useful and agreeable food, together with sometliiug else— and 
if I had room I would certainly grow them — but as to plant- 
ing the whole garden with them, I would not do that either, 
something more profitable may be done with it. I would 
make the best of my garden at any rate ; and if I ran short of 
potatoes for the use of the family, I would buy a sack or two 
when they were cheap. 

93. If you have a good aspect, there is nothihg pays better 
in a garden than good fruit trees. I know a person who 
made above two guineas one year of one apricot tree. It hap- 
pened to be a bad year in general ; and his was almost the 
only tree in the neighbourhood that had a good sprinkle of 
fruit; but take one year with another, if it produced but half 
that, or even a third, it is something pretty. 

94. ' But such trees are very expensive to buy at first, and 
tliere is an art in training them.* Very true ; and yet if y oil 
have a good piece of wall, or the end of your house is towards 
the west or south, it is a pity not to improve it. I think a 
few shillings would be very well bestowed in buying a good 
grape vine and an apricot tree-— (I prefer an apricot, because 
it b more sure of I earing than a nectarine or peach,] and ai 


to pruning find training them, if either yourself or your has. 
band have the least inclination that way, yoa might soon , 
learn to do it yourselves ; or if you are afraid of undertaking 
i^ it will be worth your while to employ a gardener, who un- 
derstands his business ; half a day twice a year, will train as 
many trees as you are likely to have that require much skilL 

d5. Now I will put you in a way of having always a good 
fmpply of trees for your own garden, and to dispose of besides ; 
and wat at very little hazard and no expense. If you have 
any out of the way little slip of garden, that will grow uothii^ 
abe, that I would make a nursery of. When any of your 
neighbours cut their gooseberry and currant trees, observe 
whether they are good sorts — if they are, beg of them to give 
you the cuttings. You will observe to use only such as are 
young wood ; cut off the tips, leaving them about six or eight 
inches in length, and set them in the ground; with the tops 
downward,* and a little aslant — about four or six inches apar^ 
•according to what room you can afford. If the weather is dry, 
give them a little water now and then, and they will almost 
all strike. In the same manner, only not with the tops down, 
ward, you may raise laurels without any difficulty — ^they will 
require rather more room. The price of laurels, the size which 
yours will be after the second winter, is fourpence a plant, or 
£ 1. for a hundred. It would take very little room and very 
little trouble, for you always to have a succession of half a 
hundred to dispose of every year — and (always to calculate 
on the least) if it brought you but five shillings, it would surely 
be worth having. 

96. Your gooseberry and currant plants having stood one 
entire year, or rather more, should be moved, any time fit>m 
November to March, into a more open spot ; round the beds 
of your garden for instance — they will most likely bear the 
following year. You should let them bring one each to per. 
fection, (not more,) just to satisfy you that it is a good sort, 
if otherwise, throw them away at once, and neither cumber 
your garden, nOr injure your credit by rubbish. If you are 
satisfied with the fruit, and that the plants are grown to a to. 
lerable size, the following winter they will be fit for the mar* 
ket ; and you can warrant them to have borne, and to have 
borne good fruit I have often wondered, that there is always 
a ready sale for such things, but so it is ; I suppose persom 
are too indolent or too thoughtless to provide for themselves^ 

* Tbey will strike equally well so, and the thorus are doC so Uoutlt- 
^onfie wbeu yoa come to leather the fruit. 


thouga they might do it at so little trouble — ^well it make* 
trade for those who do think. 

97 You will perhaps have some gooseberry and cnmuit 
trees remain in your own garden for supplying the market 
nith firuit. The only way to keep prime fruit is, never to 
have old trees, but plant a young one neai* every one thai 
begins to look great and overgrown, and after gathering tbe 
fruit, pull the old one up, and let the other come forward. 

98. To have a supply of fine a{^les, pears, and plumbs, the 
best way is to raise some stocks from the seeds of fine large 
ihiit, and when they are of a proper size, graft them with the 
best sorts ; the process of grafting will be described hereafler. 
Many cottagers reckon upon their apples to pay their rent ; 
and if you are clever, ana successful in grafting, young trees 
ij( a good sort will sell at firom two to five shillings each. 

99. A flower-bed well attended to, is not only pleasant but 
profitable. What can be pleasanter than to see yourself sui- 
rounded with beauty Aid fragrance, of your own reaiing?. If 
there were nothing to be got by it, is it not worth a litUe la- 
bour to have the view from your cottag-e window ornamented 
with roses, honey .suckles, stocks, and miguionette, instead of 
seeitig a slough, or a heap of rubbish, or a plantation of thi&. 
ties and stinging nettles ? But let me tell you there is a great 
deal to be got by it. If you live near a market-town, and 
have a turn for gardening, (or choose to take one,) I don't 
know a better thing for a woman to turn her hand to. If 
proper pains be taken with a flower.bed, (and I know of no., 
thing that yields profit without taking pains, except it be 
money in the funds, and the likely way to have that, is by 
taking pains with little things that produce it,) a flower* 
bed well managed^ will furnish you, (beside supplying your 
bees, which under such favourable circumstances you will of 
course keep,) more than half the year with four or six hand* 
some nosegays a week, which may be sold for a penny, three 
halfpence, or two-pence each. Suppose tliey bring you ir 
but threepence a week all the year round — thirteen shillings—- 
why it will buy your husband a hat, or one of the children a 
warm coat; or if no such thing be wanted, put it in the- 
savings' bank, and it will tell up to something in course o 

100. But this is not all ; you will save some seeds of yo 
annuals,-*^ more than you want to stock your own garden f 

* Those plants which are raised from seed— flower, seed, aod dtcay 
attnm the year, such as sweet-peas, larkspurs, &c. 


next year. These you will carefully separate and mark^keep 
ing tliem from frost and rain in winter, and then in Marcli, 
when people begin to think of flower-seeds, do them up in 
little penny or two-penny packets, and display them for sale. 
If you sell but two or three shillings' worth, they will buy 
what lazy shiftless people are oflen distressed for. Your per- 
ennials, too, will grow thick and want paiting — ^instead 
of throwing away what you have to spare, take them up 
neatly, with a ball of earth, to look as if they were worth 
^mething, and give them their chance in the market. Bui. 
bous roots, also, multiply very rapidly. As an instance of this, 
my own stock of tulips, which at first consisted of about two 
djzen roots, in the course of seven or eight years, multiplied 
to 80O. The commonest tulip bulbs, of a good size, sell for 
one penny each — how easily a trifle may be made in this way ! 
If any of my remarks should lead my readers not to despise 
trifles, one great object will be gained. If your situation is 
sunny, you may raise a few pots of early mignionette, and 
when they are just ready to flower, sell them for fourpence 
or sixpence a pot. 

101. If you have the thriftiness to manage trees and flow, 
ers, I am not afraid of your neglecting vegetables ; all your 
spare ground, I know will be made the best of: in a sheltered 
situation^ you will have some flue lettuces to stand the winter ; 
and cabbages to cut early when the gentlefolks give sixpence 
or eightpence a dressing for them ; and you will have plenty 
for yourselves when they are equally good and wholesome, 
but less costly ; and there will be onion beds, and carrot beds, 
parsnips by all means if you like them, they are a very whole, 
some and nourishing vegetable; and, perhaps^ if you have 
room, and time to attend to them, and manure to supply them 
with, asparagus and cucumber beds too ; some poor people 
make them very profitable. You will also have a good stock 
of parsley, mint, thyme, marjoram, balm, sage, &c. handy for 
use, handy for sale, and handy to dry for the winter. Peas, 
beans, snA kidney-beans must depend upon the size of your 
garden. If you can have them, I see no reason at all why 
you should not — ^bread and bacon may be very good food 
wUJioiit vegetables, (and I wish every cottager had plenty of 
it,) but I think it much better with, more pleasant to the pa- 
late, and more wholesome too. The produce of your garden. 


too, will be valuable if it helps you to keep a cow, pigs, or 

102. But now, what cottager's wife in the world is able to 
manage such a garden as this ? Why in the first place, it is 
not necessary to have every iking that I have mentioned — 
8onie may have one part and some another, as their room, 
time and circumstances suit ; and next, I know one cottager's 
wife in particular, not three miles from the spot where I am 
writing, who has managed a garden entirely herself; digi^ing, 
planting, weeding, (in that of course she lets her children 
help, a woman who had children and did not make them work 
would be a simpleton indeed,) she grafts and prunes her trees 
iierself, manages her flowers, and attends the market twice a 
weekwith just such cargoes as 1 have described. Well, and 
has she over found it answer ? Why so well as this, that be- 
side breeding up a family as creditably as any in the parish, 
she has saved money enough to purchase half an acre of 
ground adjoining, and has thrown it into her garden. There 
is a saying, and it is a favourite one of mine, ' Whatever man 
has done, man may do;' and what there is to hinder any other 
woman from doing what this woman has done I know not. 
At any rate, if she will try her uttermost, though I can't po- 
sitively promise her half an acre of freehold land, bought with 
she labour of her own hands, I will venture to predict tliat 
she will find herself well rewarded in the comforts of her cot- 
tage, the creditable appearance of her children, and the con- 
tented approbation of her husband. 

103. I have now done with the garden for the present, but 
have yet several other ways to point out, in which the good 
woman may do her part towards the mamtenance of her family. 
As to field-work, I don't know what to say about it. In a 
general way, I rather think if she can be profitably employed 
at home, it is more to the real advantage of the family. I 
have known some i^omen who could earn a great deal of 
money at reaping, hay-making, or bean-setting, and who de- 
pended greatly on those times. It rests in » great measure 
with the taste and the judgment of persons themselves. Those 
who can turn their hand to any thing, have only to consider 
A* hat is most profitable and least objectionable. If she has 
a family of children, whom she sends to glean, 1 should advice 
her by all means to go with them, herself and three children 
uiil glean more than six children without her — her presence 
keeps them steady and diligent, it also prevents quarrelling 
dmong themselves, and falling into company that she would 
not approve; besides, gleaning last« but a few days, and comes 


but onco a year ; so if it is worth any attention, it is wcHth 
making the best that can be made of it — and I Icno w some wonijeo 
reckon upon their gleaning (or leasing) to find the family in 
idioe leather; if that can be done, it is not a thing to be aeg^ 
lee ted. 

104. Then tumip-greens, and cowslips, and elderbetrieis 
may be gathered for sale* I don't say that a fortune is to be 
made by these things, but they are all sources of income to 
the industrious cottager, and if no better sources preserit 
themselves at the time, they are well worth attendmg ^ 
Children may be made useful in these ways, and perhaps it 
answers better for a mother who has two or three children to 
employ, to accompany and assist them, than it does for a 
woman who has no family to go to it herself. It is a most 
important thing to impress upon the minds of children, as 
soon as ever they are capable of receiving it, that they are 
bound to do something towards the support of the family; 
and that it is a great pleasure and honour so to do ; a little 
of mother's time is well spent in forming and training this 

105. Milk is so truly valuable an article in a poor man's j 
family, that it is much to be desbed for them to accomplisli 
the keeping of a cow or two-^two, I believe, will be found to 
answer better than one. The dairy is conducted with no 
more trouble, and it may be so managed, that they shall not 
both be dry together. People sometimes fancy that a thing 
cannot be done, which in reality might ; but having once got 
the notion, they sit themselves down contentedly without 
making the attempt. This is the case with keeping a cow. 
Those who know far more about the matter than I do, say, that 
she may be kept principally upon cabbages and Swedish turnips 
— that very little room is required, and that her produce will 
be nearly equal to half that of a man's labour. No one can 
be ignorant of the advantage of having plenty of milk wheie 
there is a family of children — and from the great difficulty 
often expressed about getting milk, I should be inclined to 
think that it would be no bad speculation to keep two or three 
cows for the express purpose of selling good skim milk to the 
neighbours. The cream, of course, would be profitable for 
butter — and if a cottager's wife has established a character 
for cleanliness in her dairy, good weight, sweet butter, &c 
her butter will always be sought in the market, in preference 
to that of the higglers who collect from diflfereat dairies, and : 
of whom, if you buy one pound of good butter, you w t Uable 
io buy another altogether as bad. 


i06. Those vho keep a cow or two, will scarcely fail alia 
Id keep {ngs, as any offal milk will be a very ets^itial help 
in feeding them, aiui a flitch of bacon on the rack is a truly 
pleasant ornament to the cottage. 

107. Nor must it be forgotten, that the manure of thesa 
anifflals is very yaluable. You will of course contrive to make 
the best of it ; both your cow-shed and pig-stye should be 
built a little aslope, and whatever runs off should be conveyed 
into a tank or pit Ibrmed for the purpose, and pitched with 
any kind of stones; into this, you will sweep the cleansings of 
your cowshed and pig.stye. You will also use your children 
carelully to collect what they can of the same kind from the 
road or lane, and you will add to it all the sweepings and 
fliops of the house. 

106. This may seem a trifle, but it is indeed tFuly valuable. 
Here you are furnished with what is needful to enrich your 
garden, and you have plenty left, to exchange with some 
neighbouring farmer for what you want of straw for your ani. 
mala — ^perhaps enough to get hay also, if not oats or barley, 
meal for feeding a few rabbits, which may be mentioned as 
another source of the cottager's wealth, and of amusement for 
his children. 

109. All kinds of poultry too, if well managed, will clear 
something— either for eggs or flesh, or both ; and if you keep 
cows, you have tlie better oj^rtunity of keeping poultry, as 
curds form a very important part of their food. 

110. There might probably be many other sources of gain 
ftoiated out, but the ingenious cottager who has attended to 
these specimens, being desirous of supporting his family re. 
spectably and independently, will be at no loss to adopt such 
of them as may best suit his situation ; or even if they should 
all fail, to turn to something which may answer better. 

111. The next point is to save as much as you can. Eco. 
nomy or frugality must second your industry and ingenuity. 
The first step towards taking care of your property, is to keep 
a regular account of it — ^to see exactly what you gain and 
what you spend. It is very desirable Uiat young p^*sons of 
both sexes should be taught enough to enable them to cast a 
simple account like this with ease. I have however known 
some thrifty women, who not possessing the art of writing, 
had a set of marks of their own, by which they managed all 
their Httle afairs with the greatest accuracy. 

112. ' But it won't make us either richer or poorer to set 
down what we earn, and what we spend; it will only give us 
vexation if we find that we have not got enough.' It wiH, 



however, answer a very important end to be always thoroughly 
acqusunted with the state of your affairs — absolute ruin, both 
in your own class of society and in those much higher, has 
often been the result of neglect and inattention in this respect 
It is just the same with the health of your body — a man 
comes home with only a cold — only a sore throat — only a paiu 
m hb limbs : he pays no attention to it, thinks nothing about 
it, does not inquire how it may be remedied, or what it may 
lead to; in a few days, perhaps, disease has gained such 
ground, that all attempts to reduce it are in vain. How ag. 
gravating to his distress, to be told (what perhaps is very 
true,) that if the disease had been ascertained and attended 
to at fiM, it might easily have been removed ! Now just in 
the same way, if you know the state of your affairs, though it 
may be paiuAil to you to see it not exactly what you could 
wish, yet it is the only likely way to set you about seeking for 
a remedy. 

113. There are two evils arising from not keeping a clear 
account of all your affairs, both almost equally to be dreaded. 
The first is, you will be apt to flatter yourself that all goes on 
very smoothly and well, and that there is no occasion for uii« 
easiness or exertion — the other is, that not knowing the extent 
of your difficulties, you may fancy them greater than they 
really are, and suppose any attempts to retrieve them alto- 
gether hopeless. If any difficulty exists, the only way is to 
face it like a man; take its full dimensions, and never de- 
spair. If it is a giant of twenty feet high, be comforted to 
think that it is not twenty-one ; and know that if you reduce 
it, but an inch in a day or a week, and go on regularly to do 
so, it will in time be destroyed. Beside, to look at things 
constantly, is the best way to prevent their growing to such a 
tremendous height, that you are afraid of looking at them at all. 
A prudent man, who has a clear account before him, and on ex. 
amining it at the week's end, finds that his earnings have been 
but twelve shillings, and his expenses thirteen, sees a short re. 
medy before him : ' Next week,' says he, ' I must either earn 
fourteen shillings, or only spend eleven.' It is not so easy to 
say or to do this at the end of the month, still less at the end 
of the year. 

114. By a clear account, you see not only that so muck 
has been earned, .and so much spent, but you see how it has 
been done. You look at it again and again, till it strikes 
you, 'there was a small portion of timpi that might have been 
turned to some account; — such a tb !ig I omitted to do 
which might have put a few pence ia my pocket; — on such ar 


article a few pence might ha\o been saved, (and must in fa« 
ture; — ) and such an one entirely done without/ « 

115. The next thing towards saving is^ to allot your money 
into regular portions, and strictly adhere to it, that no article 
of expenditure shall exceed its own allotment. The comfort 
of this steady plan of self-denial, will well repay the sacrifice 
it may require. I hope that by industry and good manage, 
ment, you may be spared any great straits ; but even sup. 
posing the worst, and that you are straitened in the most ne. 
cessary article of existence ; would it not be better that you 
should have half a loaf to-day and half a loaf to-morrow, than 
that you should have a whole one to-day, and to-morrow none 
at all p 

116. To keep your rent always comfortably under, (and 
what man can feel at all secure or happy if this is not done P) 
a weekly portion must be sacredly laid by, sufficient to meet 
it, and on no account infringed upon. In order to make 
doubly sure, (which is easiest done at the outset,} when you 
draw out your money from the savings' bank to furnish your 
cottage, enough should be left in, to pay a quarter's, or, if 
possible, a half year's rent. Then let it remain as still as if it 
were dead, while you lay by your weekly shilling, or two 
shillings, (or whatever the sum may be,) against quarter-day, 
as though you had no other possible means of meeting the 
demands of your landlord. If a severe fit of illness or other 
unforeseen and unavoidable circumstance should for a few 
weeks render it absolutely impossible to lay by the accustomed 
shilling, what a comfort to your mind, what an alleviation of 
your distress will it be, to know that you have a little hoard 
from which to supply the deficiency ; and with what ai'dour 
will you devote your renewed strength to replacing a trea- 
sure which has afiTorded yo^^ such seasonable relief, and to 
which it is so desirable you should be able to look again in 
case of future necessity ! 

117. Something weekly should be regularly laid by, ac- 
cording to the size of the family, for shoes and under gar- 
ments — for these of necessity i/vill always be wearing out — 
when money enough is saved to purchase a pair of shoes, let 
them be bought (or rather made) for the person whose turn it 
is to be supplied, or who is likely to be next in want : it 
might as well lie by in the shape of shoes as in the shape of 
money, and you will find a great advantage in the wear, if 
shoes are hung up for a month to become thoroughly dry and 
settled before they are used. Shoes (like every thing else) 
should be mended in proper time. If a careless boy wears 


his shoes in holes, that which at first miRbt have been loeiided 
for a j^oat, will require two shillings or half-a^crown ; or per» 
haps be so far gone, that it will not answer to mend at all. 
Shoes wear much longer, and mend better, if they are changed 
every day. Use your litUe children, as soon as they have 
shoes, to cross their feet in taking them off; they wiU never 
lose the habit, and they will nev«r tread their shoes angry. 
They should always be made to untie their shoes bdbre they 
take them off. Shoes are quickly destroyed for want of %U 
tention to this. 

I 118. I say nothing about outer garments; they are sot 
things of every. day purchase. The good man, most likely, 
had a best suit at the time of his marriage, or not long before^ 
intending that they should serve him for years and years to 
come ; and his wife did not live so long in rei^ectable serviee 
to come home and burden her husband with the cost of her 
wardrobe. No, she was well furnished with every thing good 
and suitable of its kind. She was never given to finery in 
her young days, and now she cares less about it than ever. 
It is the least of her concerns who has got a new bonnet or 
gown, or what the shape or colour of it is. She is not likely 
to want a new one, for she has plenty by hfr; and what she 
has is so truly neat and respectable, that it is never out of 
fashion. I should not be at all suiprised, nor think at all 
the worse of her, if in that great box there was many a little 
bundle which had been laid care^lly by with the thought, 
' This will be sure to come in use some time or other, if I should 
happen to have a baby.' 

119. A weekly provision should be made also for firing, and 
some other articles which ought to be laid in at a particular 
season of the year. Coals are generally one-fourth dearer in 
winter than in summer; in a severe winter a third ; and some. 
times even more than that. It is a moderate calculation, that 
one-eighth is saved by purchasing a stock for the year at the 
most advantageous time, instead of being subject to all the 
variations of price throughout the year. And where is the 
poor man that would be willing every week, or perhaps, 
oftener, to give one shilling for that which is worth only ten. 
pence halfpenny P hundreds of families do this, for want of the 
forecast and resolution that might enable them to do other, 
wise. ' But,' it is objected, ' poor people have not room t» 
stack a year's coals.' This is true enough of poor people w1m> 
reside in confined parts of large towns^— but cottagers who 
have room and outlet only want a little contrivance to do 
that or almost any thing else they please to dp. Besido, 1 


bare little doubt but the poor person who had got together 
the mosey to pay for fifty-two bushels, or hundreds of coal, at 
the lowest price, would find a respectable coal.merchant iu 
the neighbcHirfaood quite wiJling to receive his money, and 
allow }dm to take the coals weekly or monthly, as might be 
most conyenient to himself. 

120. In some pliices, gentlemen have formed themselves 
iiito asBOciatioDS, to purchase in the best season and at the. 
best hand, a lai^e quantity of coak, to be sold to the labour- 
ing classes during the winter season, at cost price ; this is a 
cheap and effectual method of doing good, and where it is 
l^orded, I should by all means recommend the striving cottager 
to avail himself of the benefit of it. I am far from wishing to 
degrade lum to the rank of a pauper, nor can I look upon 
assistaitce of this kind at all in that light. Euliglitened and 
benevolent men o£ property feel it a real pleasure, as well as 
an act of good neighbourhood, thus, or in similar ways, to as. 
tistthe virtuous and industrious cottager ; and the cottager no 
more degrades himself, or injures his independence by accept- 
ing such aid, tnan he would, if, toiling homewards with a 
heavy burden, he should accept the friendly offer of placing it 
in a neighbour's cart, which would pass his door othemvise 
empty. The same idea holds good with respect to women 
accepting the use of linen, furnished by societies for the piu*. 
pose of assisting them during their confinement It is no de^ 
gradation to themselves, nor any imposition upon such so. 
cieties, nor alienati.m of their funds, if women several degrees 
above the absolutely destitute and wretched, receive such ac- 
commodations. Indeed I think it would, in general, be more 
satisfactory to the conductors of such institutions, to promote 
the comfort and respectability of the independent and provident, 
than merely to relieve those who must be provided for by the 
pcorish, and who have too long been accustomed to that resort, 
any longer to feel it a degradation. It is the same also with 
respect to schools. No parent is degraded by sending his 
children to a free, a parochial, a British, a national, or a Sun. 
day school, providea they be not shackled or clogged witli 
conditions inconsistent with his conscience as a Christian, or 
bis liberty as a man and a Briton. 

12^1. To return to the subject of economy. — ^Soap and can- 
dles ai'e articles of constant consumption in every nouse, rich 
fl^d poor : both should be purchased towards the close of the 
summer — the soap, cut in squares^ the size for use, and slowly 
dried in the sun and air ; when thoroughly hardened, put away 
'or use; and what do you suppose is the difference of con. 


» ■ 

sumption between aoap thus stored, and diat which is fetched 
by driblets from the shop, a quarter or half a pound at a 
time, week after week, just while the water is heating ? Why, 
at least one piece in Jive, There is the same difference in cut- 
ting hot bread, or letting it remain a day or two before cut. 
ting— one loaf in five. Oh it grieves me when I see a cot- 
tager's little girl running home from shop with her new loaf, 
or morsel of soap, (so soft that you might pinch it togedier 
with your fingers,) and a single candle. 1 pity the poverty 
that compels it, but I can't help thinking something might be 
done by better management. If it were only to buy three 
pounds of soap and candles at a time, a halfpenny a pound is 
saved, and if this were once accomplished beforehand, then it 
might always be kept up, getting in one stock under another. 

] 22. When there is a stock in the house of any article, the 
weekly allowance should be as strictly adhered to, as if dicre 
were not another morsel to be had, otherwise the benefit will 
be lost by extravagance. Children, if they see plenty, must 
early be guarded against waste, and accustomed to see the 
store allotted out and reckoned into portions to serve so many 
weeks. If on any occasion, the weekly allowance runs short, 
the inconvenience had better be borne than the stock infringed 
upon. It will afford an opportunity (if the article be soap, 
for instance,) of impressing on them a lesson of cleanliness. 
Children are apt to dirt their clothes needlessly, they might 
as well be taught to avoid this: they are fond of making a 
aoap lather and blowing bubbles; — a very innocent and not 
useless recreation, if they have a halfpenny or penny to spend 
i)pon it ; but not, they should be taught, if they are to use the 
spap on which the family depends for cleanliness in their per. 
sons and garments. On the other hand, if the weekly stock 
be found to have spun out and to leave a little surplus, it 
ought to be made matter of congratulation ; — as candles for 
iiistance, when the days begin to lengthen. 

123. Many cottagers use rushes for lights to save candles, 
and I have been told they answer very well. They are re- 
cjommended in one of Miss Edgeworth's very useful little pub- 
lications — as also in the book to which I have already alluded, 
Cobbett's Cottage Economy — in the latter, mixed up with 
some very foolish and contemptible remarks, not in the least 
connected with the subject. The process of preparing them 
mil be found by referring to the index, and I should think it well 
worth trying the experiment; at the same time I must plead 
that if tbp woman be employed upon any needlework that r». 
quires neatness, she should be allowed a ^ood candle to work^ 


|ty — it would be an ill sayings that was purchased at the ex. 
pence of her eye^ght. It also strikes me that the cottager 
vlil find some difficulty in managing one important part of 
(lie tallow chandler's business — perfectly to Iree the tailow 
£^om every mixture of salt. He cannot afford clear lard for 
die purpose — his grease-pot, if he has one, will most likely be 
filled with what settles upon the liquor in which bacon has 
Jeen boiled, and if this is used for the purpose of greasing 
rashes, I should think woidd be likely to splutter and be very 

124. If a pig be kept, something must be spared out of the 
weekly allowance to provide him with food, for, as it has been 
/ery justly observed, ' a starved pig is a great deal worse than 
none at all.' I don't mean to say that his food should be 
purchased weekly ; by no means — ^this would be vei^ bad ma- 
nagement, but that something should be put by weekly, so 
that his bin may be filled from the best market, before it is 
quite empty. 

125. Shall I yet add that something should be laid by 
weekly against a, fit of sickness, or any unforeseen 
lime of expense P It must be done if the cottager would se- 
ciu'e his independence of the parish, and see the wants of the 
afflicted individual comfortably supplied without infringing 
)]()ou the daily supply of the family, or injuring his respect, 
ability, his peace of mind, and his rising prospects, by running 
in debt I will add, in most cases, it may be done if the 
family be duly cai'eful to improve whatever means of income 
may meet in their situation, and to avoid all unnecessary and 
useless expenditure. 

126. And now if all these things, (and there may be others 
as necessary which have not occurred to my mind,) — ^if thesa 
are all to be provided for out of the income of every week, 
what will be left for eating and drinking? Why, can these 
things be done without? and if they cannot, how else are they 
to be obtained ? If you cannot tell, I am sure I cannot ; and 
I suppose what remains is the source of supply for meat and 
drink, and it must be your concern to make the best of it ; 
but observe one thing, there are extra gains at certain times 
of the year; hay. making and harvest for labourers and their 
families ; summer-time for plasterers, painters, and gardeners^ 
Ik hen they make, perhaps, three. or four times as much as thej 
do m the winter time. Then my meaning is to equalize tlv 
weeks all the year round ; or perhaps it will come to the sams 
thing if those profitable seasons are made to provide for rent, 
clothings and sickness, and to lay in a good stock of fuel, beer, 


flour, food for the pig, soap, &c. and to leave the regular earn, 
ings to furnish the supply of food : beside, it is to be remenw 
bered, tliat what feeds the pig;, feeds the family; and what 
fills the beer barrels, saves from the public house. So in fact 
it is not such a very great deal that the managing cottager 
wants to spend every week upon victuals and drink. I am for 
bringing him as nearly as possible to the state of the littte 
farm^is formerly, who had almost all their provisions upon 
their own premises, at ieast in the way of exchange, and 
scarcely needed to go to market with money for any thing. 

127. But while I am pointing out to you different plans for 
earning and saving, I must not forget to caution you against 
improper ways of spending. ' What maintains one vice,* said 
poof Richard, truly, ' would bring up two children,'— no ex- 
ertion can stand against vice. 

' Women and wine, g^arae and deceit. 
Make the wealth small aud the wants great.' 

If you would be either rich, resj^ectable, or happy, avoid most 
scrupulously, the dram sliop, and the pawnbrokers. WJien 
I see the signs of these trades exhibited, I ahvays fancy that 
they form a, on which is incribed the road to 
RUIN. ' Of all destructive practices, none bring poor families 
so soon to ruin, or involve them in such wretchedness, as a 
habit of borrowing of pawnbrokers, on pledges, except it be 
that of frequenting dram shops. There is a sort of shaoie 
attached to both Qiese trades ; for the shop windows of both 
are blinded up, that passengers may not see those that are 

128. I have one word more to say on the subject of saving, 
and that is — be content with your own lot. Mind now ; t 
donH want to make you content in wretchedness and desti- 
tution, or to encourage tyrants in the higher classes, by teach, 
ing you to be passive slaves — ^no such thing. I would have 
you strain every nerve to better your condition ; I would have 
you satisfied in your own mind, that no stone has been left 
unturned, by yourself or your family, ei^er in the way of in- 
dustry or frugality, that might gradually improve your cir- 
cumstances. By such exertions I have no doubt but they 
will be gradually improved : and with that experience and that 
prospect I would have you contented and cheerful. But if you 
mdulge yourself in hankering after every thing which you see 
« neighbour possess, (a neighbour, perhaps, who has no family, 

* Uickman*fi P^ain M&xioii. 


w a dfincli smaJler family than youi's^ and tliiii^ idiich are not 
laecessary to yeur being, or your well being ^ tben, farewell 
both to saving and comfort If you aspire to be at the top of 
the laldder, without patiently climbing the rounds, both your 
salety and yxmt bsqppiness are in dangtf of a sudden •downfall, 

139. This reminds me to drop a hint about lotteriet. 
lotteries, raffles, and aU games of chance, are « sure way to 
poverty and ruin. To a generous mind there is something 
very painful in the idea of gaining by another's loss ; and uu- 
less some lost, (and a great many too,) none could gain, and 
the lottery office keeper be suj^rted into the bargain. They 
tell you Plough about the great prizes, which very few can 
gain, but you hear nothing about the numerous blanks. . If 
once you venture a few shillings in the lottery, you will be 
tempted to venture more ; if you gain a trifle, you will be en- 
txHiraged to try again ; and if you lose, you wiU be very Ukely 
driven, as the saying is, to throw good money ailer bad. De. 
pend upon it, the peace and prosperity of many a once happy 
family have been entirely cru^ed under the lottery wheel- 
even of those who have gained c«ie of the great prizes, I could 
almost venture to challenge the worid to shew me one family, 
that, at twenty years end, was really tlie happier for gaining a 
£20,000 prize. For my own part, I should reckon myself 
richer Mith twenty pounds gained by honest industrj^ than 
witii twenty thousand gained by such irregular ways. The 
Messing of God is never seen to rest upon it ; and let people 
call us enthusiasts or what they will for repeating it, that is a 
true saying of a wise man, " The blessing of the Lord maketh 
rich and addeth no sorrow," Prov. x. 22. I am happy 
to hear that there is the less occasion ibr this hint about lot- 
teries, inasmuch as our government has wisely abolished them. 

130. Now we are come to speak of Good Management, or 
that whereby what is spent may be made to produce tlie 
greatest quantity of comfort. The first thing I shall mention 
under this head is that of brewing beer instead of buying it. 
A hard working man wants at least two pints of beer a day — 
and his wife, especially when she suckles, ought to have one. 
This, to fetch from the public house, will beninepence a day — 
five shillings and threepence a week : why, it is utterly im- 
possible for a labouring man to afford it. The practice in ill. 
managed families is, when the money comes in on a Saturday 
night, for Sunday morning,) to drink beer for one day or two, 
wBle tne money lasts ; and water the rest of the week — well, 
suppose Is, 6d, is spent upon beer; that allows them to drink 
beer only two days out of the seven. But that money, sptnt 



upon malt and hops, and brewed at home, would afford 
beer as strong — a great deal more wholesome-— and three pints 
(and more than that) for every day all the year round. I wiU 
just give you the calculation by which you will see it com. 
pletely proved. One shilling and sixpence a week, you know, 
makes 78 shillings in the year, d£d. ISs, Od, Now, (since the 
•nfialt tax is taken off,) malt has been varying from six shilHugs 
a bushel to ten ; scarcely ever so high as that ; mostly ahottt 
eight shillings ; we will say eight shillings and sixpence : and 
•the hops one shilling and threepence per pound; they are 
sometimes tenpence ; seldom more than one shilling. 

Eight bushels of malt, at Ss. 6d. due £3 8 
Eight pounds of hops, at 1<. 3d, are 10 

_ _ . 

3 18 

There you have it at once. Now eight bushels of malt will make 
eight kilderkins of excellent beer. There you have 

8 kilderkins. 

144 gallons. 


3)1152 pints. 


Thus the allowance of three pints a day is provided lor, 
rineteen days over the year. 

131. But nothing has been said about firing and trouble. 
True — ^but as for the trouble, suppose you brew two bushels at 
a time, (it is an easy day's work for any woman; I have 
brewed eight bushels myself, with only the help of a girl of 
thirteen or fourteen, and could have done it without her): 
there are four days* work in a year ; and would it not take any 
body four days to go seven hundred and thirty times to the 
public house— rain, bail, or shine— not to suppose any chance 
of being hindered to gossip with tlie publican's wife— or, if the 
man happened to go, of being enticed by jovial company to sit 
down, and stay longer, and drink more than he came for. 1 
say the public house must be very near at hand, neai-er than I 
should wish to have it, if the 730 journeys did not quite take 
np four davs. Well, then, as to firing'— if yo'i have got a set oe' 


children^ they might as well amuse themseives by bringiiig you 
in a bandle of wood or fiirze, as by doing mischief; and tha^ 
with a bushel of cinders^ and a bushel of small coal, (for any 
thing will bum under a copper ; you haye no more business to 
put large coals there than you have to put youi* owu head ;) 
this will be about as much as you will use — you can't reckon 
all this to exceed a shillings— then you will have in return, 
two bushels of good grains for your pig, which are worth Sd, 
and certainly as much yeast as will be worth the other 4d, 
.whether you use it yourself^ sell it to the neighbours, or change 
it at the baker's for a loaf of bread. So here you are set 
straight at home, with plenty of good beer • for all tlie yenr 
round, at the same cost you would have had it for at tlie pub. 
lie house two days in a week; beside the \i holesomeness, re- 
spectability, and comfort of the thing*. Mind, I take no ac 
count of copper and brewing tackle here— -because I suppose 
you to have had the prudence to provide them before marriage. 
But, in case you should not, you may get them even now, by 
allowing yourselves, for one year, beer only two days out of 
the seven ; the same as you would have had at the public 
house. The ditference of expence will furnish you with all 
vou need of brewing tackle, to serve your life, and your chil- 
dren after you. 

132. Next comes making bread, instead of buying it. 
This I have never tried myself— but I do not say I never 
shall. I used to think it was only advantageous in large 
iamilies — but I find I was mistaken. I have a friend, an 
elderly lady ; her daughter resides with her ; and they keq) 
one servant ; and for this family they find it answer well to 
make their own bi'ead : better bread than tlieir's I never tasted. 
They have a grate similar to that I recommended in par. 46, 
with an iron oven, in which they bake bread enough to seiTe 
them for a week. Where there is a large family, it would be 
better to have a common oven; or, if they have not this, bread 
may be baked at the bakers for a penny a loaf. 

133. All labourers should have plenty of good bread 
Notliiug can be an adequate substitute for it. Potatoes are 
very good as potatoes ; but they are not a substitute for bread. 
Dreisui is truly called the staff of life : for some years of early 
childhood it is almost the only food required; and it never 
ceases to be the principal support of life. If plenty of good 
bread Fje afforded, almost any thing else may be done without. 
A man's trade or service is said to be that by which he gets 
his bread: and nothing can give us a more affecting idea of 
^eneial misery and destitution, tlian to say of a family ' they 


.9it ■ctually in want of bread.' We conclude them of oourm 
to be destitute of every thing else. Too often we hear it added 
of their furniture, clothes, and odier prop^ly, 'they h&tt 
parted with erery thing to get a bit of kread,' 

134. The importance then is eTident, of having a plentifal 
dij^ly of good bread : and tf a man has just so much money, 
and no more, to provide his family with this §rst of necessaries, 
it behoves tern seriously to consider bow he may convert his 
money into the largest quantity thereof. I have seen a cai. 
culation that when the average price of a bushel of wheat was 
7«. 6d, the quartern loaf was 1*. 0}rf. : but, on careiul inquiry, 
i find that there must be some mistake in that calculation. I 
have inquired of several intelSigen^t and disinterested persons, 
who ail agree in ihe statement^ that when the average price of 
wheat is 9s, (as at this moment,) the quartern loaf will not 
exceed lOfrf. There may be some difference in dl^rent 
places ; but it appears quite impossible that in the same mar. 
ket where the average of wheat was 7^. 6rf. the qnarto-n loaf 
could fetch Is. O^d, 

135. The expenses of making a bu^el of wheat into bread 
will be as follows : — wheat, 9*., grinding, 9rf., yeast and salt, Sd.. 
heating the oven. Is,, in all lis,: bi)t from this you must de. 
duct at least, 6c/. ; as the offal, (bran and pollard,) of which you 
have 131bs. is worth more than id. per lb. I have also radier 
Overcharged than otherwise, on the other things. Salt, now 
the tax is taken off, is very cheap— yeast, you have p^^aps 
brewed yourself lately, and then you need not buy — and few 
cottagers spend Is, upon heating their oven; peiiiaps 10«. 
will be about a fair calculation for the baking :— from your 
bushel of wheat you will get from 58 to 591bs. of bread— that 
is about thirteen loaves and a half; which would cost you at 
the baker's lis, 9id, The calculation I have above alluded 
to, makes a saving of 4^. on a bushel of bread : mine does not 
quite reach 2*. ; not quite one-sixtii ;— howevcsr that is worth 
saving — when iM^ad is the chief support, it is a matter of no 
small consequence whether the allowance be ^e loaves or six. 
Bui ther» is a further and most important advantage — your 
bread is pure— which, if the bakers be not greatly belied. Is 
neldom the case with what they sell ; and whether you buy it 
or make it, you want bread; you don't want potatoes, or 
allum, or any other messes. 

136. I have spoken of white bread, as fine as what the 
bakers sell : but if you choose only to take away the bran, you 
may still have a wholesome nutritious bread, at a further 
saving of above a loaf in the bushe.. I have eaten very de* 


fidotis bread, made of half flour and half potatoes—^cTt vihlu 
liua* or not there is any saymg in h, I cannot say : it may be 
worth the trial. I have been told also, that equal parts of 
rye, barley, and wheat, if wet with milk, make good and 
<^eap bread. 

137. Some peq>le recommend wetting your bread whh 
milk. I donH prefer it myself: it becomes so soon harsh and 
dry ; and in hot weather tarns sour. But bread made of rye 
<x barley, which are more sweet and clammy than w^at, is 
in^proved by being mixed with milk. 

138. Now suppose, next, that you keep a cow, (or two,) how 
wHl you make the produce most promote the comfort of your 
fainUy P By all means, in the first place, you will make and sell 
butter — ^in the next, let your own iamily be plentifully supplied 
with good skim milk ; I say good, for those who, from over 
ooretousness, skim their milk till it is almost, in the 
first place, impoverish their butter, and cause it to fetch only a 
lower price— in the next place, their milk being stale, is neither 
nourLsliing nor wholesome — their neighbours will not buy it— 
and if they boil it themselves, it curdles, and the bread, rice, 
or whatever else was mixed with it, is also rendered unfit 
to eat Covetousness generally defeats its own end. 

139. Your children, at any rate till they are 10 or 12 years old, 
w91 make the best possible breakfast on boiled milk, diickened 
with bread, flour, or oatmeal — or some prefer to eat the bread 
dry, or ^read with lard, dripping, or treacle, and drink the 
mi]k cold. I say nothing about butter, for really I think that 
where children can have plenty of good sweet milk, and of 
nourishing home-made bread, there is no occasion for it : and 
a prudent cottager will not only avoid tvctsting on his children 
what might be spared for their real advantage ; he will also 
eansid^, that in accustoming them to luxury, he is creating 
for them wants, which, in after life, become real hardships, 0^ 
they shouM not have the means of supplying them. 

140. 1 wish the mother may be inclined to join her children 
in this breakfast. I have no doubt but, on a fair trial, suffici- 
ent to reconcile her to a change of habit, she would find it 
more agreeable and nourishing, as well as a vast deal cheaper 
than tea, — ^while she is suckling, especially, I believe it is the 
very best breakfast she can have. No tiling is so well calcu . 
lated to supply the expense on herself, or to afford nourishment 
for her child. It is an utterly mistaken notion among nurses, 
(chiefly of the lower class,) that any advantage whatever arises 
either to mother or child, from the use of any kind of strong 
drink on the contrary, nothing can be more injurious to bo'Jir 


Those will be found the most healthy thriving children^ and 
those mothers least injured by suckling, whose principal drink 
is mi]k. As to milk not agreeing with the stomach, I believe 
it will be found to agree, at least, as soon as any change of 
diet whatever ; and there is one special advantage in it — that 
those who once become thoroughly fond of milk, are scarceJy 
ever known to become fond of spirits ; than which nothing can 
be more ruinous to both health and pocket. 

141. How much will milk, too, help out towards dinner. 
How easily is an excellent and cheap rice pudding made — 
nothing more is necessaiy than to wash a large teacup full of 
rice, put it into a deep dish, with two quarls of skim milk, and 
put it in the oven ; if you choose to stir in a little coai-se 
sugar, and sprinkle a little ground allspice, you may, but it is 
not necessary. * Oh, but I always scald my rice, and then let 
it stand to get cold, and then — ' * But then there is not on* 
bit of occasion for all this— the rice done my way is just as 
tender, and far more pleasant and wholesome — you have the 
goodness botli of the rice and the milk^and who would hav^. 
A morning^s work to make a rice pudding, that may just as 
well or better be made in two minutes ? No one who knoTS 
tiie value of time. If meat runs short, perhaps only a 
pound or so for a whole family, why, (as one of the best 
friends* of the labouring classes has justly observed J if you 
roast or broil it, you give half to the fire — if you fry it, the 
goodness remains in the fat — if you boil it, in tiie water, (un- 
less indeed you find out a way to use water and all, of which 
we shall speak presently.) But here is a way to have all the 
goodness of youi* meat, and make a little divide into a great 
many portions, so that each may have a share — grease a deep 
^ish, cut your meat into little pieces, scatter a little pepper and 
salt, lay them in the dish, and pour over a good stiff batter ; a 
little suet or lard, if you have it, will make it light, and an ^^^ or 
two if you can afford them : but I am supposing rather a short 
commons day — and if there is nothing but skim milk and 
flour, well beat up, and baked over the meat, it will make an. 
excellent dish. 

142. With the remainder of your milk, you will most likely 
have a neighbour or two to supply ; and any that will not keep, 
you have a ready use for in your poultry yard and pig 
trough. Some people, I know, will not sell any milk, but say it 
answers better to give it all to the pig-s : perhaps it may ; but 
ire should not be unneighbourly, and all for ourselves. If iir# 

* Mn Uainmh ^!(>^e• 


kept no cow^ and had a family of children, we should think H 
bard if a neighbour refused to sell us a quart at the rejBTukr 
price, and preferred giving it to pigs, who might be fed u|Kni 
other things. 

143. I have supposed you to keep a pig. Much grK^l 
management and economy will be requisite, to prevent waste 
and prolong plenty, when you are surrounded with the rich 
produce of pig-kiHing time. I am inclined to think that it 
would be wise to sell some of the lean parts, such as griskin, 
raring, and sparerib : these parts fetch the best price, and a 
cottager's dairy -fed pig is sure to find a ready sale. Even ii 
a family where a joint of meat is dressed every day, all tlie 
meat cut up from a bacon pig, cannot well be used while it k 
fresh ; and the lean parts do not do well to salt. So I thank 
it must he extravagant for a cottager's family to think <^con. 
suming the whole at home. Sometimes two neighbouni agree 
together to kill their pigs a month apart, and each takes half 
the offal and fresh meat, allowing for any difference there may 
be in weight. Whether this, or any other plan is adopted for 
disposing- of the sui^ilus meat, there shoukl be a plan in tb^ 
disposal of what is kept at home. ' Heie are so many pounds 
of meat— ^according to our usual allowance, this would serve 
us so many weeks— we like to live thereabouts alike all the 
year round — and it must be portioned out accordingly.' 

144. When the hocks, feet, or cheeks are boiled, it would 
never enter into the head of a wasteful slattern, that the liquor 
was good for any thing — it would never enter the head of a 
careful mauager to throw it away. She knows very well, that 
wlien cold there will be a cake of fat settled on the top, enough 
to make a good pudding : and that tlie liquor boiled up with 
a few peas and herbs, will make good soup; (a capital break, 
fast tins for a hard labouring man, on a cold frosty morning. ) 
Even from the liquor in which bacon has been boiled, very 
good fat may be gained, and freed from salt, by skimming it 
from the liquor while warm, and dropping it into a vessel of 

-cold water — the salt will go to the bottom, and the fat remain 
at the top. Even the brine that runs off from salting the 
bacon is useful. A spoonful or two of it put into the saucepan 
with potatoes, causes them to boil light and floweiy : this is 
particularly useful during the latter part of the winter and 
spring, when potatoes are old and indifferent, and other vege- 
tables scarce, 

. 145. In occasionally buying butcher's meat, the good wife 
does much by management. She goes with her money in her 
^aud, and therefore she can go where she pleases, and get 


veil served. She generally contrives to go at the close of (be 
market day^ xvhen a joint may oflen he got for a haFfpeuny or 
ft penny a pound less, especially if it be a little discoloured; 
which if she wants it to dress immediately, is not of the smallest 
consequence. While desirous of having what is wholesome 
and nourishing, she is less anxious to get what is esteemed a 
delicacy, than what is really profitable in a family. She h 
ctU'efnl also to dress it in such a way as will make it go far. 
thest : and when the meat is used, and the bones picked, even 
then they are to be boiled down for soup or broth of some 

146. But, it may be said, 'What is the use of talking about 
butcher's meat to a cottager P it is very seldom wjthin his 
reach ; he is obliged to be contented with bread and cheese.' 
I must beg to reply, that if he can afford bread and cheese, I 
am well persuaded he can afford meat — for it is at any rate 
cheaper, and certainly much more nourishing. Many a time 
have I seen a litUe girl belonging to a numerous family of the 
sort that are always poor, and concerning whom I have 
heard, times without number, that * they don't taste a bit of 
meat from one week's end to another,' — just as the father came 
home to dinner, the child would be running to the chandler's 
^op for a quaitem loaf, (new of course,) and a quartern of 
cheese : which would have disappeared long before the crav- 
ings of hunger round the board were satisfied. l*his miserable 
meal would have cost thirteen pence. — Poor things 1 if they 
had no more to spend, it was indeed a scanty allowance : but 
might not good management have contrived a better meal ? I 
think it might. Such a pudding as that I spoke of in paragraph 
141, would not have cost above half the money, would not 
have required more than half the bread, and would certainly 
have been more nourishing. Or two pounds of coarse bee( 
(neck or shin, which may be had for threepence per pound,) 
stewed a long time in a gallon of water, until the meat was 
llhoroughly tender, and the liquor rich, then thickened with a 
little oatmeal, or potatoes, and relished with an onion or two, 
or any other herb that might be at hand, (both of which-would 
not cost more than twopence,) would make a savoury and sa- 
tisfying dish, and leave fivepence for bread— more than thej. 
would require. 

147. I merely give these as examples : on the whole I am 
well persuaded, that poor people greatly err when they liy* 
vpon bread and cheese as a saving : such it by no means is ; 
even setting aside the consideration of its affording so little 
real nourishment. I have no doubt, that if the good wamr 


•tew could be bought ready made at the chandler's shop Ibr 
the same money as the bread and cheese^ it wouJd be greatly 
preferred to it; but then the trouble, (the faish as the Scotch 
call it.) — But is not the manager of a cottage family almost 
vorthy of the ducking stool who has too much laziness^ and 
too little thrifty to take this trouble^ and would ratlier see he 
husband and children^ (to say nothing of herself, for she m 
hardly worth caring about,) pallid, feeble, and hal*. starved ? 
It is more charitable to hope, that it is not so ofler from lazi. 
ness that the poor are thus fed, as from a long habit of con- 
sidering bread and cheese cheaper than meat ; and indeed all 
that can be attained and ought to be desired. If so, when a 
better way is pointed out, it will at least be attended to and 
tried. It can but be abandoned, if, upon experiment, it is 
found not to answer. 

148. I should scarcely have thought of obserring that it k 
exceedingly extravagant to make a dinner of bread and but. 
ter, did I not recollect a young girl, living in my service, who 
would eat bread and butter all day long : that is, whether she 
was washing up the tea things, making the beds, or dusting 
the rooms, she was sure to have a slice of bread and butter near 
at hand ; and I believe that had she been allowed to continue 
taking what butter she pleased, less than two pounds a week 
would not have sufficed her. She told me she had been used 
to live upon bread and butter at home, * for they could not 
afford meat,* 

149. Now what must I say about tea P I can't in con- 
science cry out so loudly against it as some writers have done 
'• — for to say the truth, reader, I very much enjoy a cup of 
lea myself: yet I suspect there is too much truth in what is 
so often asserted, that it was no good day for the labouring 
classes, when tea took place among them of porridge, milk, or 
beer. ' There is no useful strength in it — it does not contain 
any thing nutritious — and, besides being good for nothing, it 
has betdness in it — -it does indeed produce want of sleep in 
many cases ; and in all cases tends to shake and weaken the 
nerves,' — * it communicates m strength to the body ; it does 
not in any degree assist in affording what labour demands ;* it 
lA, moreover, very expensive — all this I can't deny. To those 
who labour in the open air, it is not so suitable, nor is it in 
general so agreeable, as to those who sit all day long in-doori, 
ddiig nothing, or exerting only, or chiefly, the labour of tlie 
head ; to such it is very refreshing. So it is to those wlio 
work in great heat — ironing ibr instance— -such work mak^ 
•*ersons very thirsty; and I think a little tea is both more 


wholesome aiid more refreshinsp than too much beer. Bnt, 14 
a general way^ we must, I think, admit that tea is a luxury 
and the less of it there is used in a cottager's family, the 
better it will be for their pockets^ and certainly not the worse 
for theu' health. 

150. I will just add a remark or two for the benefit of those 
who cannot bring themselves to the old-fashioned breakfast 
of bread and cheese and beer, (certainly far more suitable for 
a labouring man,) and porridge or gruel for the woman and 
children, and who yet find wim regret that the money goes 
very fast for ounces of tea, and quarterns of sugar. 1. I be- 
lieve that the refreshment afforded by tea, arises more from 
the warm diluting liquor than from the particular quality of 
the herb steeped in that liquor. We have all heard, within 
the last few years, of a set of filthy poisonous herbs put upon 
the public as tea, which werd chosen, not from their possessing 
any properties similar to those of tea, but merely because the 
shape of their leaves resembled those of the genuine plant 
Now I cannot think but what there are many British herbs 
just as good and pleasant a« the foreign tea ; and it would be 
well worth making the tnal. As no deception is intended to 
be practised, the shape of the leaves is of no consequence. I 
have myself used the common herbs mint and balm, for 
months together, and found them produce every desirable 
effect of tea. 2. There is a powder now much used as a sub- 
stitute for tea and coffee : it is prepared from roasted grain : 
it is quite as good as second coffee ; far more wholesome and 
nouiishing than either t^a or coffee; and as lib. ot the grain, 
at 8^. will go as far as fib. of tea, at 7s, or 8s. per lb. it must be 
far less expensive. 3. More than half the expense of tea drink- 
ing lies in the sugar, which might just as well be done with- 
out. 'Oh, but the tea is hurtful without sugar, it is bad for 
the stomach and nerves.' So I have heard fifty old women 
say : but I don't believe it. I never in my life took sugar in 
my tea; and never found it at all injurious. I never used my 
children to take sugar, and there is not a healthier family 
in the kingdom : and, what is perhaps more to the pomt, I 
know several, I may say many persons, who have left off sugar 
since they were grown up, and find the tea much more agree- 
able, and more wholesome, without it. As to liking; if any 
person would drink tlieir tea one month without sugar, I don't 
tliink they would easily be induced to take to it again. Ant 
it certainly is doing children a kindness to bring them up 
without any liking to so expensive and needless an article. 

w J 

Of Cottage Economy^ 


151. Under tliis head I propose to give Bomewhat particu. 
lar directions for the management of various matters, all more 
or less connected with cottage comforts. I shall begin witli 
brewing — and here 1 need make no calculations about the 
expense, having already done that at paragraph 130. I shall 
proceed, therefore, to speak of the quality of the ingredients 
used — the utensils required — and the process of making 

152. And first of tlie ingredients. The cottager who goes 
to an upright respectable maltster, with really money in his 
hand, is not likely to be put off with a bad article. However, 
tliat he may judge for himself, we will just say, that when 
malt is good, the shell is thin and well filled with fiour, and the 
grain may be easily bitten asunder ; if it bites hard and steely, 
the malt is bad. The main thing to attend to is the quantity of 
flour. Pale malt is quite as good as brown ; the difference arises 
only from the different degrees of heat employed in the drying. 
It is always cheapest to buy the best malt : I mean malt well 
prepareu, and made from fine plump heavy barley. The dif- 
ference to your beer, both in point of strength and keeping, 
will more than make good the difference in price. Hops 
should be of a clear lively colour, between yellow and green ; 
they should l>e free fro!n long stalks and not clotted together, 
(if tliey are so, it is to be concluded that they were not pro- 
perly dried at first, or have been since sufiered to become 
.damp — ^in either case they are injured;) they should feel 
clammy, smell brisk and pleasant, and have much of the yeL 
low farina or dust. Water is an important part of the story : 
it should be soft and clear. Qaite fresh rain water is the best 
• to brew with : next to that the water of a river, brook, or 

other running stream: spring water is generally haid, and 
wc aid not draw out the goodness of the malt ; and pond water 
siagnant, and would make the beer flat : for those reasons 
they are not fit for brewing. 

'153. Now to speak of the utensils, or, as they are com- 
monly called, brewinjc tackle. First there is the copper; 
it sliould not hold less than twenty gallons — ^if it holds more. 
It will lighten your labour. If your copper holds twenty gai« 


Ions, and you intend to brew two bushels, you most hoU it 
three times ; but if it holds thirty gallons, you need only boil 
it twice. For the mash tub, (which should hold at least twice 
as much as your copper,] tJie cheapest thing you can get, is 
the largest sized cask sold at the wine merchants. You will 
have the two ends cut off about a foot deep ; these will ser^ 
for coolers : to the middle you will have a new bottom put — a 
hole made about two inches across, near the bottom — and 
QonH grudge what iron hoops are necessary to make it secure 
and durable — to fit in this hole, you will want a common 
spiggot and faucet, and a wicker basket, (called a iap ttmist,} 
to keep back the grains, when the wort runs off; a substitute 
for these may be made with a common stick, the size of the 
hole, tapered for about eight inches at the end that goes into 
the hole, and a bunch of birch, tied lightly at both ends, and 
fixed within the tub so that the stick runs into it ; but as the 
proper articles cost all together but sixteen or eighteen penoc^ 
It seems hardly worth while to use this contrivance. Yoo 
will also want an underhack, or shallow tub, for the wort to 
run off into. A good-sized washing tub will answer very well 
for this purpose ; and if you have one or two more, and a 
large pan or two, if quite free from grease, they all come in 
use as coolers. 

164. I know some people will say, that the same vessels 
ocight not to be used for brewing and washing ; and wheie 
people can afford it, and have room and convenience, it may 
be better to have two sets : but those for whom I write must 
be content with moderation; it is only taking a little more 
pains to scrub the vessels thoroughly, and they will do vastly 
well for both purposes. Mine have always been so used ; and 
I never spoiled a brewing yet. 

156. A hair sieve is a very expensive article, and very soon 
wears out : yet a sieve you must have to strain your beer from 
the hops. A small round flasket, made of twigs, (just the 
same as is used for linen,) will answer every purpose — last 
quite as long— and cost less than one quarter of the money. 
You will also want a mash stirrer. This is a stick rathc^ 
lai^er aad longer than a broomstick, with two or three Aoialler 
aticks, eight or ten inches long, put through the lower end of 
% and sticking out on each side. Three or four sticXs, of the 
size of a common broom stick, will be very useful to you in 
the course of your brewing— they need not cost you auv 
thing— it is only to take care of them when they coftie in 
your way — and put them where you will find them when 
wanted ; (for want of putting things in a certain place, madb 


Hme is lost^ and inconveQience occasioned. On a brewing 
day this is especially felt : if every thing is not handy for use 
immediately it is wanted^ you are liable to have your beer boil 
over and waste, or to be made an hour or two later in finishing 
your work.) A wooden bowl, with a handle, will also be ne. 
oessary. A bucket, if possible, should be kept for brewing days 
alone : if it must be used for other purposes^ must be scrubbed 
with special care. A tunbowl or large funnel; and two or 
three casks. If you brew two bushels at a time, to do thb 
thing well, you should have two kilderkins and two firkins. 
I n€«d not tell you that a kilderkin is a cask which holds 
eighteen gallons ; and a firkin, one that holds nine. These, 
with a couple of brass cocks, and some .bungs and vent Pegs^ 
f which latter it is hard if you cannot make yourselves,) ^1 
form a good set of brewing tackle. 

156. Let us now proceed to the operation of making beer. 
For the advantage of cooling out of doors, you will, if possible, 
dioose your time of brewing when the weather is settled; 
avoiding the extremes of heat and cold. In frosty weather the 
beer chills, and will not work kindly : and beer made in hot 
weather is apt to have an unpleasant taste called foxey, and 
also soon to turn sour. If the weather is not exactly as you 
could wish, you must meet the difficulty as well as you can by 
ootitrivance. For instance — ^if the weather is too warm, you 
must admit the more air into the place where your beer is 
working; if it is too cold, you must keep your beer warm by 
covering the vessels with sacks, &c. 

157. The day before you intend to brew, all the vessels 
should be got out, filled with cold water, and after standing 
some hours to soak that you may see that they do not run 
out, then well scrubbed, wiped out with a clean dry cloth^ 
and stood just in their places, ready for use tlie next day. 
The mash tub must stand upon two stools, or something to 
answer the same purpose. The basket, which I spoke of in 
paragraph 153, in shape something resembling a bottle, has 
a string fastened to the neck : you put the basket within 
the tub, and slip the string through the hole ; holding it tight 
while you fix the spiggot and faucet securely in front Then 
you will fill your copper, and get your firing ready at hand. 

. 158. Next morning, if you manage cleverly, you will be at 
work by four o'clock : an hour in the morning is worth two at 
uight ; you move about so briskly. The first thing is to light 
your copper ; and while that is boiling, you get some water into 
your spare tubs, ready for the next filling. I reckon the brew, 
ing to be the woman's work ; but sometimes a kind husbaiu. 


lightens her labour by fetching her two or three turns of water 
— a very agreeable assistance this — ^the very kindness and 
thoughtfulness of it, carries off all sense of weariness. 

159. When the copper boils, you empty it into your mash tub, 
and fili it up again. Of this next copper, as much should be 
added to the mash as will make up 40 gallons ; the rest is for 
scalding your casks, which you put a-soak the day before. The 
best way of getting them clean is by putting in a handful or 
two of clean gravel stones, or a piece of chain, and shaking 
them well about; but every now and then it will be necessary 
also to take the heads out, and give the casks a thorough 
scrub inside. This is rather an expensive job ; the coopers 
charge 6rf. a cask for doing it — but any handy man may easily 
learn to do it himself, and I would recommend you to do so. 
You will of course scrub the outsides as well. 

160. I mention the casks now, because, generally, at this 
time, you may have an opportunity of doing a little to them ; 
but, above all tilings, you must keep minding the warmtli of 
your liquor. Some people regulate this matter by a thermo- 
meter, (a p:lass that shews the exact heat ;) but there are two 
simple rules by which hundreds of barrels of good beer Lave 
been brewed, and which will be found to answer every purpose. 
When tlie steam is gone off so that you can see your face in 
the water ; and when you can draw your finger quickly through 
without scalding it; then is the proper time to put in the malt; 
which you will thoroughly well st r in with the stick described 
in paragraph 155 ; then lay tw.. sticks across the mash tub, and 
cover it up with sacks, or something that ^vill answer the same 

161. Now the person who brews has a good opportunity to 
lake breakfast or luncheon. It niav seem that this is an un- 
necessary dii'ection, and that people will be sure to take care 
of themselves in that matter — but I have two reasons for men- 
tioning it. First, That when people are eager at work, they 
are very apt to neglect taking ibod at proper times— then tliey 
become faint, and unfitted to pursue their labour ; and also 
find no appetite, when they do sit down to eat, after waiting 
loo long. People of an active persevering turn, who wish 
to do as much as possible for their families, should con- 
sider it a duty to take care of themselves, and husband their 
strength. Secondly, In the process of brewing, there are cer- 
tain times when the brewer may be spared a quarter of an 
hour, without hindering the business. These opportunities 
should be taken for getting food, fetching in fuel, cleaning 
tiie casks, dealing away litter, and sweeping down the brew- 


hoase ; which a tidy brewer will do several times in tlie course 
of the day. If such opportunities are neglected, and the 
time taken for these purposes, when the brewer ought to be 
filling or emptying the copper, or letting off the wort, much 
inconyenience will arise, and the business will be still about 
wher the family ought to be a-bed ; instead of being finished, 
as it ought to be, by day light. 

162. When your copper boils again, you will half fill your 
casks, and leave them closely bunged for half an hour or so. 
Meantime it will boil up again, (it does so very quickly when 
thoroughly heated,) this water you will empty into any of 
your spare tubs, (not the underback — that will be wanted for 
another purpose ;) let that be cooling, and put into your cop- 
per as much more as is necessary to make up 30 gallons. 
While that is boiling, you will well shake about your casks, 
empty them, and set them to dry, either in the sun or in the 
influence of a fire. 

163. It will now be nearly three hours since you mashed, 
(or put the malt into the water,) at which time you should let 
off the wort. The undei-back stands ready to receive it : but 
you will catch into a bucket the first that runs, till it becomes 
quite clear : this you will throw up again into the mash tub, 
just as you would in clearing coffee. Into the uudeiback you 
may now put 2 lbs. of hops : the wort running upon them, 
separates them thoroughly. While tlje woit is running, youi 
half copper of water will boil. This you will empty into your 
9pare tubs ; together with the last copper full, as mentioned in 
paragraph 162 : taking care on every occasion of emptying 
your copper, to have a very slow fire, and set the door open. 
Some people entirely put out the fire ; but I think this is a 
loss of time; and the purpose, (that of avoiding to bum tlie 
copper,) is just as well answered by filling up the copper hole 
with small-coal, cinders, or even ashes well wetted ; wliile the 
door is open, this will not draw up, but when your copper is 
filled again, and you shut the copper door, it will burn all the 
fiercer for being wetted. 

164. Having emptied your copper, and wiped it dry with a 
clean coarse cloth, }ou will, as quickly as possible, fill it with 
the wort and hops from the underback. Now put in the 
8{Hggot securely, and begin to throw up into the mash tub the 
wate" from your other tubs, (paragraphs 161, 162.) In 
doinfj tjiis. you will observe how high it reached in your ma$h 
tub before, if what was first run off dofs not fill your cop- 
per, add water this time to fill tlie mash tub ratlier higher ; 


biit if your copper k full, then fill your masii tub omy to ikt 
same height as before. This second mash, you will stir in 
well and cover up, the same as the first. Observe, when 1 
speak of a copper full, I don't mean brim full, and ready to 
run over ; but so as you can stir down the hops, without dan^ 
ger of splashing over. The grains, you will observe, retain «i 
considerable quantity of water; for that reason, as you aie 
to draw a copper full off, I dii^ected you, (paragraph 159^) to 
put three buckets more than a cof^r full in. This is about 
the usual calculation; but as the grains do not always soak 
up exactly the saune quantity of water, in putting up your-se* 
cond mash, you set it to rights by filling your mash tub rather 
higher or lower than before, according as your first mash has 
yielded rather less or more than a copper full. 

165. Your attention will now be divided between your cop- 
per and your coolers. In the first place, see that there is a 
good fire under your copper; next judge how near it is to 
boiling, and if you think you can safely leave it a few minntei^ 
employ those minutes in emptying any water that may remain 
in your tubs, and wiping them thoroughly dry, for the purpose 
of coolers. Beer may be cooled in.doors or out ; but the laU 
ter is far preferable when the weather will achnit. Having 
placed your tubs in a convenient place, you will lay two sticiu 
across one of them, and put the wicker basket (spoken of in 
paragraph 156) in readiness for straining off the heer : but 
while all this is doing, do not forget to keep an eye npon tibe 
copper ; it sometimes boils up suddenly, and great waste is 

• 166. When your copper boils, if it is not quite full from the 
first wort, you may let off a bucket full, or what you want, of 
the second, to make up the deficiency, (but this, as I said be- 
fore, is much better avoided by calculating exactly in your 
first mash : if, however, it happens to be otherwise, thb is the 
time to remedy it.) The copper must- now be kept at a brisk 
boil, with the lid off, for an hour and a half ; during which time 
you will break the hops, and keep them down with the mash. 
stirrer. — Allowing half an hour for your copper to boil, and an 
hour and a half to keep boiling, will also allow two hours to 
your second mash. When this time is expued, you may set 
open your copper door, begin emptying your copper, and at 
tlie same time set your second wort a running. 

167. The copper is to be emptied into the coolers, and filled 
again from the underback, returaing the hops to the copper 
when tJic liquor is drained from them. While the copper i« 



bendng, yoa may employ yourself— firot, in aqmratiag your 
boer iuto as many tubs and pans as you can aflford; for the 
quicker it is cooled the better — and next, in stooping your 
mash tub, and well pressing tlie grains, that as little as possible 
of the liquor may be wasted; for this purpose, nothing 
answers better than an old chum stick. If your copper does 
not yet boil, or while it is boiling without danger of boiling 
Of?er, you may proceed to dear out your mash tub. The 
grains will be very valuable for your pig— or if you do not 
keep one, plenty of neighbours who do, will be glad to buy 
them of you, and letch them away. The little basket that 
fixes into the mash tub, you will dip into your boiling copper^ 
riiake it out, and hang it up to cb'y. This is a good sign ; it 
IS the beginning of putting things away. The spiggot and 
fettcet you will fit again into the mash tub, and stand the tub 
<m the same stools, or sometliing of the same height as before^ 
wiiere you int<md your beer to work. 

168. This second wort will only require to boil a full hour. 
Wlien that time has nearly expired, your first beer will be 
quite cool, and may be put together^ eitlier in your mash tub 
or in yt>ur second.sized tub, while you empty your copper, 
straining it through the basket into the coolers as before. 
Throw up a bucket or two of water as quickly as possible, 
to cool the copper, and take out the fire. 

169. Now the question is— Do you intend to have ale and 
small l>eer P 1 f you do, your beer must be worked separately ; — 
or. Do you intend to have it all of about equal goodness? I 
tliink this latter plan the best ; and shall give you directions 
to proceed accordingly. If such is your intention, I would 
put about half tlie fii'st beer into the mash tub, and half iuto 
tlie second.sized tub ; keeping out a quart or two, which you 
will mix in a clean pan, basin, or 1m)w1, with at least half a pint 
of good new yeast; in a little time, tliis works up to the top 
of tlie vessel. Then see. if the beer is properly cool ; which is, 
JHot as cold as water fresh drawn from the pump ; but as cold 
as water tluit has stoo<l in the house a liew hours in sum* 
mer time; tills is the right coolness— and much beer is spoiled 
by working or attempting to work it, wanner tlian this. In 
this state, mix your working beer with that in the smaller tub, 
emptying your basin, or bowl, dipping it up and pouring it 
back for some minutes— tlien cover it up with sacks, and 
leave it. 

170. As your second beer is not yet quite cool enough, you 
cletin out your copper hole, and scour your copper— it dfoei 
a9 easily agsiin while warm— empty your hops away, (they are 


of no use* except for the dan^hffl,)— scrub your atraiuh^ 
Imsket, and hang it up to cb^y. If your casks are thoroug^y 
dry, fit them with vent pegs and bungs^ and set them in their 
place ready for filling. 

171. Your second beer will now be cool, and your first will 
have risen finely — (that is it will be covered with a seuBi, 
which is yeast,) you will fill your bowl once or twice with this 
scum, and put it into your mash tub : then pour on this your 
second beer, and cover both vessels up as before. Your brewing 
is now done for to-day. You have only to scour your tubs, set 
them up to dry, swill down your brewhouse; and th^i sit 
down to rest a bit, and attend to your children. 

172. What remains is to get the beer into the casks. Some 
people are for doing it earlier ; but my rule is to let it work in 
the tub forty .eight hours at least ; if rather longer it does not 
signify — much waste of beer is thus prevented, and some 
trouble saved. If it happens that I brew on a Friday, I never 
tun my beer tiU the Monday following, and have always fonnd 
it answer very well : you will set your casks leaning a little on 
one side, and place pans under to catch what beer may run off. 
I have supposed you, (paragraph 155,) to have two kilderkins 
and two firkins— one of the firkins I suppose you have now 
got in use — and that its being tapped was the signal for brew. 
ing again. You have therefore two kilderkins and a firkin to 
fill. In your smaller working tub, you have got half, or nearly 
half, of your best beer. Having first skimmed off the yeast, I 
should divide half into the firkin which will be last used, and 
half into the kilderkin ; the other, which is to be used first, 
need not be quite so strong as those which are intended to 
keep. The beer that is in your largest tub, you will draw off 
by tlie spiggot and faucet (which is much the best way of 
separating it from the yeast ;) from this you will till up first 
the two casks already spoken of, and tlien die kilderkin for 
earlier use. If you have a bucket of beer left, it will seiTe for 
filling them all up, which must be done daily for almost a 
'brtnight ; but if you have no beer over, you must tap your 
first kilderkin for that purpose. You will also use daily what 
runs into the pans, aud what settles under tlie yeast 

173. When tlie head of the yeast begins to fall, lay vour 
bungs slightly on ; and in a few days hammer them in tightly, 
with a piece of coarse linen clotli round each, and a bag of 

» Unless, If you want to begin drawing your beer very quickW,yoa 
sure a handful of the spent hops to put in. the cask, which help* to 
clear it. 


fiflad well pressed down over itr^see also tliat the vent pegB are 
tight 11 the beer should ferment, the pegs must be loosened 
1^ little, and afterwards fastened. 

174. When your barrel wants stooping, to prevent the beer 
becoming thick, observe that you stoop it while it b running. 

175. AH the utensils should be put away quite clean and 
dry, as. soon as done with. When the casks are empty, do not 
wash them, but cork, bung, and peg them close, so that no air 
liui^ get in, otherwise they will be completely spoiled, and 
spod ail beer that is put into them. This is the whole process 
^ brewing. It seems to consist of a great many things ; but 
must of those things take but a minute or two each to do. 

> The wfaoie may be done by an active good managing woman 
in fourteen hcKars : — one, the day before brewing, in getting 
out her tackle ; twelve on the brewing day ; and one on the 
day of putting the beer into the casks. And, as I have caU 
cuiated before (paragraph 131,) this is, after all, less trouble 
tlian going twice a day to fetch beer from tlie public house ; 
beside the comfort of knowing what you drink, and having 
money's worth for your money, 


176. " If you mean to bake a bushel of flour, put it into a 
trough, or large clean and smooth tub ; make a deep hole in 
the middle of the heap of flour, and put into it one pint of 
good fresh yeast, mixed up wiUi a pint of milk-warm soft 
water ; then with a spoon work into tne liquid enough of the 
flour to make a thin batter, which, after being well stirred for 
a minute or two, may be sprinkled with just enough flour to 
hide it ; theii cover the trough over with a cloth till the batter 
has risen enough to crack the flour with which you covered 
it ; theu work tbe flour into the battel, sprinkle over it a half 
pound of salt, and pour in, as it is wanted, lukewarm milk or 
soft water. When the whole is sufficiently moist, knead it, 
Mhich is done by working it thoroughly with your fists, rolling 
out, and folding it up till it is completely mixed and formed 
uito a stiff and tough dough ; then make it into a lump in the 
middle of the trough, and with a little dry flour thinly scat- 
tered over it, cover it again, to be kept warm to ferment. If 
properly done, it will not have to remain in this state more 
than fifteen or twenty minutes, in which time tlie oven will be 
heated, by means of a lively and rather strong fire, made of 
dry but not rotten faggot sticks, the woody parts of furze or 
strong brushwood, without any green about it : if larger wood 
is used^ it must be sp it in sticks not more than 21 iuchea 


thick. When both dough and oven are ready^ take out HbB 
^re, sweep the oven clean, and make the dough up into loayes^ 
which should be put into the oven a8 oucn as possible. As 
you knead up the loaves^ shake a little flou^ now and ihea 
over your board, to prevent the dough from sticking to it. 
When you have put the loaves into the oven, shut up the door 
very closely, and, if all is properly managed, quartern loaves 
will be baked enough in about two hours/' 

177. Another way to make Bread, — " Let flour be kept four 
or fire weeks before it is begiin to bake with. Put half a 
bushel of good flour into a trough, or kneading tub ; mix with 
it between four and ^^t quarts of warm water, and a pint and 
A half of good yeast, put it into the flour, and stir it well with 
your hands till it becomes tough. Let it rise about an hour 
and twenty minutes, or less if it rises fast ; then, before it faUs> 
add four quarts more of warm water, and half a pound of salt; 
work it well, and cover it with a cloth. Put the lire then into 
the oven ; and by the time it is warm enough, the dough will 
be ready. Make the loaves about five pounds each ; sweep 
out the oven very clean and quick, and put in the bread ; shut 
it up close, and two hours and a half will bake it. In summer 
the water should be milk warm, in winter a little more, and in 
frosty weather as hot as you can well bear your hand in, -but 
not scalding, or the whole will be spoiled. If baked in tins, 
tne crust will be very nice. 

*' The oven should be round, not long ; the roof fh>m 
twenty to twenty-four inches high, the mouth small, and tht 
door of iron, to shut close. This construction will save fiifing 
wid time, and bake better than long and high-roofed ovens." 

178. Cheap Bread,-^*' Remove from the flour only the 
coarsest flake bran : boil five pounds of this bran in rather 
more than four gallons of water, so that, when quite smooth, 
you will have three gallons and three quarts of bran water. 
With this knead fifty-six pounds of flour, and add salt and 
ye€ust as for other bread : the fifty-six pounds of flour used in 
tliis way will produce as much bread as sixty-seven pouu<k 
four ounces of flour used with plain water. When ten days* 
old, if put into the oven for twenty minutes, this bread will 
appear quite new again." 

179. Rice and Wheat Bread, — '^ Simmer a pound of rice in 
two quarts of water till it becomes perfectly soft ; when it is of 
a proper warmth, mix it extremely well with four pounds of 
flour, and yeast and salt as for other bread ; of yeast about 
four large spoonfuls ; knead it particularly well ; tnen set it to 
fise before the firie. Some of the flour should be reeerved to 


smike up the loaves. The whole expense, iiicluding baking, 
will not exceed three shillings, for which eight pounds and 9 
half of exceeding good bread will be produced. If the rico 
should require more water, it must be added, as some ric^ 
swells more than others." 

180, "American Flour requires almost twice as much water 
to make it into bread as is used for English flour, and there,. 
fore it is more profitable ; for a stone of the American which 
weighs fourteen pounds, will make twenty-one pounds and a 
hall' of bread, but the best sort of English flour produces only 
eighteen pounds smd a half.'' 


181. In order to have good bacon the hair should be burnt 
off — not scalded — the flesh will be more solid and firm, and it 
will keep better. This part of the business belongs to the 
operation of pig killing ; however, we shall bring it in here* 
The hog must be kept on dry straw, or litter of some kind, all 
the day before, that the hair may be perfectly dry. When 
killed, he is to be laid upon a bed of stiaw, not wider than hia 
body, and two or three inches thick; cover him thinly with 
ftraw, and set fire to one end of it, in the direction of ih^ 
wind ; cover him two or three times, as the straw is burnt off, 
but be careful not to bum or parch the skin ; when one side 
is done, turn him on the other. When the hau* is burnt close^ 
scrape the hog quite clean; but never touch it with water. 
The burning should always be done before daylight ; because 
you can then discover more nicely whether tne hair be suC 
fi ciently burnt ofl*. After the innvards are removed, di(r pig 19 
hung up till the next day, when it is cut up, and the other 
parts being taken away, the two sides, or flitches, are to be 
cured for bacon. A bacon trough or tray should have a gut- 
ter round its edges, to drain off* the brine, which would other* 
wise soak in, and spoil the meat. The inside (or flesh side} 
of each flitch must be w/gU rubbed with salt, and placed above 
each other in the tray — once in four or ^ve days the salt 
should be changed-^it should be sufiered to melt and sink^ 
but not to lie too long— *at least twice during the salting the 
flitches should be changed, putting the bottom one at top, and 
then again at the bottom. It is a £Ood thing that salt is so 
cheap now, that one need not grudge the quantity required 
tor (loing it in the best way. Some people add, for each hog, 
half a pound of bay salt, a quarter of a pound of salt petre, 
and one pound of very coarse sugar or treacle ; but this is not 


necessary. Very capital bacon may be made with common 
•alt alone^ provided it be *re\\ rubbed in^ and changed suf- 
ficiently often. Even the brine will turn to a good account, 
(as I hinted in paragraph 144^) if you will set a vessel under 
the hole of your, salting trough, in order to catch it. As to 
the length of time required for curing the hog, it depends 
upon the state of the weather^ size of the animal^ &c. It takes 
longer in a dry place, and when the air is keen, than when it 
U iLAd &ad damp. Six weeks, in moderate weather, will do 
for a hog of twelve score; but it is better to have time 
enough. The place for salting should be cool, and very airy ; 
if it be dark it is all the better, being more secure against fly« 

182. Smoking bacon is much better than merely drying it 
In order to do this, rub the flitches well, on the flesh side, 
with bran, or fine saw.dust, (not of fir or deal ;) and hang them 
in a chimney, out of the way of rain, and not near enough to 
the fire to melt ' The smoke must be from wood, stubble, or 
litter, (not fir or deal wood :) if the fire is. tolerably constant 
and good, a month's smoking will do. The flitches should hang 
till quite dry, but not long enough to be hard. To preserve 
them from hoppers, sift some clean dry ashes of wood, turf, or 
peat, or very dry sand ; put some at die bottom of a chest or 
oox, long enough to hola the flitches ; lay in one flitch, which 
cover with six or eight inches of the ashes ; and then anothei 
flitch in the same way ; — ^if the ashes get damp, dry them by 
the fire, and replace them in the box. In this way the bacoB 
will keep fresh and sweet, as long as ever you will want to 
keep it. I have heard that if bacon is whitewashed over two 
or three times, it will keep equally well on a rack — but this I 
never tried, and therefore cannot answer for it. 

183. Lard, — This is all the inside flear and fat of the hog. 
It should be first beaten with either a wooden or iron lard 
beater, something resembling a cricket bat, and then nicely 
melted down, with a little salt, and run into bladders that have 
oeen carefully cleaned. Some people, who use it instead of butter, 
add a sprig of rosemary or a leaf of sage. When the lard is 
melted out, the skin that remains b called crittens ; and the chil* 
dren are delighted to have a pie or pudding made with it, chop- 
ped up togetiher with a few apples or raisins — ^it is very well to 
grant them such an indulgence, now and then — ^it is a good 
thing to make them contented at home, and to encourage 
them in giving a hand at any busy time. A little feast allowi d 
them, now and then, with the neighbour's childreiv on a crit* 


ten pie, or a home.made cake, is no more expense, if so muchy 
m. giving them continually a lialfpenny for gingerbread ; and 
is iar l<nig^ remembered. 


184. Chittertings, — I am surprised that I cannot, in any 
5XX>kery book that I have seen, find directions for prauiring 
.liiese : it is a shame they should be wasted — ^however, I oeUeTs 
all the matter is, immediately they are taken out of the pig 
to turn them inside out, and give them many, many washings 
sn salt and water, till they are perfectly sweet and clean, and 
Ih^i slowly boil them for several hours. 

185. Hog Puddings, — If you intend to make these, you 
omst save a quart or rather more of the blood, and let it be 
jttirred, with salt, till quite cold, (if you have children, surely 
sne of them might do this.) When cold, add a quart of whole 
grits, and let them soak one night ; soak also, the crumb of a 
quartern loaf, in two quarts of boiling milk. In the mean 
time prepare the guts, by washing, turning, and scraping with 
salt and water, and changing the water several times. Chop 
fine a little sage, winter savoury, or marjoram and thyn^e ; 
8ome add a leek or two, finely du'ed ; mix as much pepper, 
(nit, allspice, and ginger, as will season the whole. If you izu 
tend them for sale, grate in a small nutmeg. Chop up soms 
bits of hog's fat, not nearly so fine as you would suet— yet I 
cannot say, as some do, in large bits. Mix well the bread, 
grits, fat, and seasoning, and \>ut them into the skins ; tie in 
links only half filled, and boil them in a large kettle, pricking 
them as they swell, otherwise they will burst When boiled, 
lay t^em between clean cloths till cold, and then hang them 
up. When to be used, they must be broiled or toasted. A 
cottager's wife, who is known to be a thoroughly nice clean 
woman, may be sure to find a customer for these among 
her richer neighbours, who like such a thing if sure that it 
IS nicely done; but seldom like the trouble of doing it at 
home, even if they kill tlieir own pigs. 

186. Sausages. — For the same reason I give this recipe— 
not that I expect, at such a busy time as pig.killing, and a 
time, too, when there is such plenty of good living without, 
that a thrifty cottager's wife would take tihe trouble of chop, 
ping sausage meat for her own family, but because nicely 
made sausage meat is sure to find a ready market, and fetch a 
good price. Chop equal parts of fat and lean pork very fine, 
season it with sage, pep|>er, and salt, and half fill hog's guli 
thit have been made extremely clean, in the same way as di^ 


rected for hog puddings. These sansages are generally broOed; 
They aM called £p[Hng sausages ; and are mostly used about 

187. Oxford Sausages, — One pound of lean pork, one pound 
of fat, Hnd one pound of lean veal, all carefully cleared of 
skm and sinews, shred as fine as possible, or beat with ih& 
lard beater, (paragraph 183;) one pound of crumbs of breai^ 
about thirty leaves of sage, shred very small, (some add also, 
a little parsley and thyme — others a little garlick, shallots, or 
leek ;) mix it well together ; season with pepper, salt, and nirU 
meg ; beat separately the yelks and whites of four eggs ; miiL 
in &e yelks, and as much of the whites as is necessary just to 
make it thoroughly adhere, (or stick together.) These saiu 
sages are to be fried; each pound should be divided into 
eighteen equal parts, and a very small dust of flour shakea 
over them ; they will require no fat in the pan ; but must be 
done over a clear fire, and the pan shaken the whole time^ 
after they are done, there will be fat enough remaining in the 
pan to fry a slice or two of bread, or some sliced potatoes^ 
which are generally liked to eat with the sausages. — if this 
recipe should meet Uie eye of a nice clean cottacer's wife, in a 
neighbourhood where there are several genteel houses, and 
where Oxford sausages are not sold, I would recommend hev; 
next time she has pig meat in the house, to make some, and 
offer it fcHT sale ; and I am very much mistaken if she is not 
encouraged to continue doing so every week during the season. 
In this case, to secure her against risk, I would have her send 
round to her customers the day before market day, and pur. 
chase no more meat than is required to make the quantity or. 
dered.— When pig meat is sevenpence per pound, the price 
of sausages is one shilling. 

188. Liver and crow is generally the family dinner on pig** 
killing day. The crow affords fat enougii to fry the liver; 
^nd, that what remains in the pan may not be wasted, have 
I'eady some potatoes, scalded and sliced, or as much stiff batter 
as will cover the pan, and suck up the fat. 

189. Jf<w/^^.— The hghts, melt, sweetbread, any liver and 
crow that may remain, and any other little trimming bits that 
happen in cutting up the pig, make a fine dish, seasoned with 
pepper and salt, and sage and onions. They may be baked 
**i a stewpot, (described in paragraph 73,) with a quart of 
^**^\ some shced potatoes; or covered with a pie crust, 
^1 * *>a^ter pudding, as mentioned in paragraph 141. Yoo 
^1 have pleUy of bits of fat to chop up for puddings and 
P*^ «s good as the best of suet. 


19U. P$ase t^ifp.— Tbit I hay^ alrjeady hinted at, (paragtaph 
J44-) When you fooiJ your pig's feet, hocks, or cbeekf, you 
bftTe a good opportunity of making them go farther^ by admng 
wome pe^ to the liqvor ; do not let them be too salt, or the 
Gqnor will not be so pleasant or wholesome. As soon as your 
pot boils, {fast boils, and pot b^ore,) throw in a quart of peas, 
dther whole or split^ but the latter are much more expensive; 
at the same tinpe, or an hour afiierwards, as may suit you best, 
add tea or twelve onions or leeks, the same of turnips, &re or 
&x sticks of celery if you have tfaem, a few cairots or pannips, 
a handful of parsley, and a little ground pepper ; if the hocks 
are salted, no more sak i»ill be required. As to Uie vegetables 
meutionea, you may put in all if you please, or 6uch of them as 
you have at hand, or like best. This soup will both eke out 
your meat, and relish it ; and of itself make a good dinner for 
the children; especially if you boil in it a few suet or hard 
dumplings. Far be it fi-oin me to teach parents to feast them, 
selves and starve their children ; but children do not requine 
solid meat, as a hard. working man does ; and where the utmost 
care and frugality are necessary, to enable a family to get 
something comfortable every day, I think it is better to have 
soup one day, and cold meat the next, than to have both soup 
and meat one day, and go without another. 

191. Perhaps you have some rich neighbour at hand, who 
4oes not make use of liquor in which meat has been boiled ; 
or of bones as they come from the table : either of these would 
be well worth acceptance, and might generally be had Sof ask. 
ing. If you have never tried it, you will be astonished to find 
what good soup may be made from such liquor; and how 
much goodness may be drawn by boiling down bones ; those 
especially of a gristly glutinous kmd— such as of a knuckle or 
breast of veal. Notliing vexes me more than to see good pot 
liquor thrown into a hog tub, or bones half picked given to 
dogs, or chicken's heads and feet thrown to a dunghill, when 
I reflect how many poor creatures are in real want, to whom 
these wasted articles would have furnished an excellent meal ; 
and I have not unfrequently seen the old proverb verified, that 
'wilful waste makes woeful want.' I have known those who 
111 time of plenty wasted such things, brought down so as to be 
very glad of what was msAe. from the very same articles. 

192. Potatoes should not be boiled in the liquor of wlucli 
soup is made ; they render it unwholesome. If you choose to 
have potatoes with your soup, let them be boiled in another 

193. It 18 a very false notion that peas are improved by 



■nuking some hoara in cold water : the very reveree is Ihe act. 

They ought never to be put in water at all, except such ms js 
fait M/tii^'^then they will be sure to boil floury. Some 

peas take a longer time to boil than others ; but mnch less 
'time will do for them this way, than when they have been 

•oaked. In general, two hours and a half or three hours is a 

good time for boiling them. 

194. Stewed Beef. — The coarser parts of beef may be bouglit 

▼ery cheap, and, if well managed, will yield great nourishment 

— the shin or leg is much preferable to the neck — though even 

the neck may be made very good by slow boiling, in a small 

quantity of water, till it is quite tender, and adding an onion 

or two, a turnip, or any other vegetable you please. But to 

speak rather of a shin or leg, — ^the first thing is to take out the 

marrow; this is not necessary in the stew, and will make a 

good pudding or pie crust : the meat should then be taken from 

the bones, and the bones either boiled over the fire, or baked in 

the stewpot already spoken of, (paragraphs 73, 189,) for many 

hours, in a gallon, or even six quarts of water, until the water 

IS reduced one half, and the bones become quite white and 

diy : then take them out, scrape off any little bits of meat or 

gristle that may adhere to them, and put the meat, cut in 

pieces the breadth of three fingers, into the liquor; — ^this also 

will require several hours doing, either over the fire or in the 

^^^J^ • *^** ^^^^ a dozen onions or leeks, and a little pepper 

»na salt; and you will make a most excellent nourishing dish 

to serve two days— the cost of which will be about eighteen, 
pence. ^ 

195 A sheep's head, two or three handfuls of Scotch ot 
pearl barley, or rice, two or three onions and turnips, and a 
mue parsley, stewed for two hours or two hours and a half, 
iihl^^^^'^*^ ?r ^^® ^^^^^^ o^ water, makes a cheap, palat. 

1 Q« ^ °^^"^ing dinner. ^ ^ 

more A«rr'!i!? I ''^''y §^^^^ ^^^^ ^o'' children. It is nothing 
salt beef I K^- ^"^ ^^^^ o{ bread, put into the pot where 
colitl^^^^^^^^ i« nearly doni; it drews tL fat, be. 

rishing to the ftJmach ^^'''''^ ^^ ™e«^t and salt, and is nou. 

soups and'LtJw7^K?f**?^?^l'*^ ^"^^^ ^or preparing economical 
ing to these directi^»I I^^.' '^^^^ ^^^ ^ a ^^ accord, 
notion of doing mo^ « ^^^ ^^^ answer, will soon get the 
ents, and afford variett^ ^ to make the best of their ingredi. 
for those, who when A^^ k '^ *^ ""^^"^ ^ multiply directions 
fully, and when tbev 1 a v iT^, ^^"^^ ^^^ consume it waste. 

y ^*ave little, will rather grumble ovei- it 

tliaa try to make the best of it In general, it may be remem . 
bered, that all soups and stews may be thickened with whole 
iff split peas— whole or ground rice — Scotch or pearl barley-^ 
grits and oatmeal; — and that dumplings boiled in soup, both 
get and give goodness. 

198. Boiled Rice. — Three pounds of rice, boiled in a pud. 
ding bag tied so loose that it would hold Ayb pounds, will fill 
the bag, and turn out five pounds of solid pudding ; this nuLy 
be eaten with milk and a little coarse sugar or treacle, and all. 
^ice— or some people will stir in a pi^e of dripping or lard, 
and a little pepper and salt — and some, a couple of red her. 
rings, cut up fine-'-or an ounce of cheese : this is just as peo. 
pie fancy. I think the milk is best ; as follows :— 

199. One pound of rice, five pints pf cold water; let them 

b<Hl gently for two hours, when it will be like thick paste ; 

then stir in a quart of skim milk, and either pepper and salt, 

or treacle, or sugar; let it boil again gently^ stirring it well 

>ti11 it is all united— this makes a capital breakfast. 

200. Two pounds of Scotch barley, or two pounds of rice, 
or one of each, boiled in two gallons of water, till reduced to 
one ; add a little allspice ; and sweeten with treacle or coarse 
sugar. This is a useful dish where saving is an object,--— and 
'i£ all children in the higher classes of society, dined one day 
on this, and one day on plain dressed meat, they would be 
much fatter, fairer, and freer from disease than they generally 

201. Milk Porridge, To make two quarts. "^Ont quart of 
water, (in the brass skillet recommended in paragraph 72 ;) 
let it perfectly boil : then have ready four large spoons full of 
oatmeal, gradually wetted with milk till it has taken up a 
quart; stir it briskly into the boiling water, and let it boil up 
again a few minutes till quite thickened ; keep stirring it all 
the time; sweeten with coarse sugar or treacle. If milk is 
scarce, let the oatmeal be wetted with one pint of water, in- 

. stead of the milk ; and then stir in one pint of cold milk when 
it is done. 

202. Porridge of Green Peas, Onions, or Leeks. — If you 
have the liquor in which meat of any kind has been boiled, 
use it ; if not, water will do ; in two quarts, boil a pint or 
a pint and a half, when shelled,, of green peas, or twelve good. 
«zed onions or leeks ; when they are quite tender, have ready 
four spoons full of uatmeal or flour, mixed as above, with a 
quart of milk, v/mch stir in, and keep stirring, till it boils up 
and tUicketis ; season ^ith pepper and salt, (unless the liquor 


««• uh,) and a HtUe bit of butter, lard, or dripping ;-^tlit8 » 
a famous duh with the gentry. I remember a gentleman 
aending all over the parish to find some one who knew how to 
make peas poiridge, and he declared he woaid never again 
hire a cook who was ignorant of it. 

5^03. An ox cheek is a very profitable diing. It may be 
done various ways. I think the best way is, first to stew or 
bake it down for some hoare, in a large quantity of water, aay 
four gallons and a half or five gallons; then take out the 
dieek, and leave the liquw to cool ; when cold, you may take 
otf a pound and a half or two pounds of excellent fat, "vfaidii 
has settled on the liquor ; then do the cheek and liquor a^in 
with peas or rice^ and what herbs and Reasoning you choose^ 
till the meat is quite tender, and the liquor reduced one^^hird, 
<» nearly Imlf; — this will serve a family three or four da^s; 
cold, it will cut out like a stiff jelly, <Mr be not at all injured by 

204. The people who boil tripe and calves feet, oft^i seil 
tlieir liquor for a mere nothing, or €»«i give it away if adced 
to do so. A person who has known rt\il want, would find a ba- 
son of this far better than water ; and those who are frugal, 
without being destitute, would find it an excellent thing to be- 
gin any kind of soup or stew with. A pint of tripe Hquor, or 
calves feet liquor, (with two or three onions boiled in it, if 
agreeable,) and cooled with milk ; is as &ne a drink as can be 
given to a person with a weak stomach, or consumption, or 
recovering from an illness. 

205. OfEfgs in Pud^Uneis.-^^^^ are certainly a great ira. 
ppovement to puddings; and those who keep poultry, will 
perhaps occasionally use ^em during the plentiful season. 
They may be glad to jinow ^at eggs go much iarther if weil 
beaten, the yelks separately from tiie whites; and diat the 
eggs should be thoroughly worked into the dry fiour, betoe 
any milk or water is added. Some people in making a batter 
pudding, break the eggs into the fiour ; then pour some milk ; 
and then beat all together — but this is a very bad way : the 
pudding is generally lumpy, and the eggs might almost as 
well be out as in. A spoonful of fre^ yeast in a pudding, an 
swers the puffxme of two or three eggs. So does snow i have 
been toid, but I never tried it. 

206. I hare several times spoken of pie-orust. If you keep 
rabbits, you will sometimes, I dare say, treat yourseives witt a 
rabbit pie ; it is ea^ly made. Rub wdl with your hand about 
Aalf a poundy (or nuiier less will do,) of lard, drippings 


row, or suet, till it becomes like a cieam ; then add to it hall 
a qaaitern of flour nt wet it wilii cold water, knead it well, and 
roil it out ; grease the edges of your dish ; lay in a thin pieei 
of paste all round ; at the bottom some sliced potatoes, scald, 
ed, (see paragraph 189 ;) then your rabbit cut up in joints, and 
seasoned with pepper and salt ; put half a pint or rather morfe 
rf water ; or, if you have it, liquor in which meat has been 
boiled; and lay on your top crust; it will want two hours 
baking. You will also, perhaps, if you have a gai'den, once or 
twice in the season, indulge your young ones Tiith an apple or 
gooseberry pie, made in the same manner. 1 1 is pleasant to 
encourage ^e children if the}*^ behave well, and especially if 
they abstain from medcHing wi& unripe fruit, or widi such as 
is scarce and costly. I need not say ttiat the fruit pie will re. 
quire a little treacle or coarse tnigar, instead of pepper and 

207. To make Elder Wine, — But bow can a cottager afiwd to 
make wine P I don't say that »11 cotUgers can afford it, or that 
tt is a necessary article of cottage house.keeping ; but if the 
more thrifty sort, who like to h&ve thinga abo^t them as com- 
fortable as possible, and who think of things at the right time, 
should be able to get themseivt's a twQ or three gallon keg, 
and fill it every year with e IdCT Tiine, I can see no harm in it. 
Most people, once in the year, generally about Christmaa 
time^ have a visit from their relations or neighbours ^ ^nd I 
don't know a better tiling to set before them at that cold sea- 
son, than a mug of good warm elder wine. Nor is such a 
thing at all amiss, used in moderation, after a very hard day's 
i*ork, — brewing, washing or the like — but mind, I don't re- 
commend it when a person begins to feel the effects of having 
taken cold, in shivering, weariness, pain of the limbs, &c. — tliat 
wiH come to be spoken of by and bye. A gallon of eMer wine 
costs very little more than a pint of gin ; goes much farther, 
and is more wholesome and re^ctable. But then, elder wine 
must be thought of, and spared for, when elderberries are in 
season. Gin unfortunately is in season all the year round; 
and so it suits tiiose who never think of a thing except just at 
the moment they want it, and who are least of all disposed to 
spare a few shillings in September, for their comfort in De. 
cember and January. It can at any rate do no harm my set- 

* By this mude of inixiDg the fat with flour or dough, for either pie- 
cruB^, puddii]«;s, or cakes, they are better united, a less quantity of 
Mrater is usecl in wetting tbem, and when baked they eat much aun* 
short and light. 


ting down hoMT elder wine is to be miide. The country cot- 
tager will, of course, get his berries for gathering— aud a fe» 
does— or perhaps he has a damson tree in his garden ; a few of 
the shabbiest damsons, which he cannot o^er for sale, will 
greatly improye his elder wine. Well, th^n, if two gallons of 
wine are to be made, get one gallon of eldfifberries and a quart of 
damsons or sloes ; boil them together la pix quarts of water for 
half an hour, breaking the fruit with a stick ^^t at one end ; run 
off the liouor, and squeeze the pulp through a sieve or straining 
doth ; bod the liquor up again with six pounds of coarse sugar, 
two ounces of ginger, and two ounces of E^Uspice, bruised, and 
one ounce of hops; (the spice had better be loosely tied in a 
bit of rag or muslin ;) let this boil above half an hour ; thou 
pour it off; when quite cool, stir in a tea-cup full of yeast, and 
cover it up to work. After two days, skim off the yeast, and 
put it in the barrel, and when it ceases to hiss, which will be 
in about a fortnight, paste a stiff brown paper over the bung, 
hole. After this, it will be fit for use in about eight weeks, 
but will keep eight years if required. The bag of spice may 
be dropped in at the bung hole, having a string fastened from 
it to the outside, which shall keep it from reaching the bottom 
of the barrel. Thus I have given you a winter cordial ; X 
will now give you a summer beverage. 

208. Ginger Pop, — Pour one gallon of boiling water over 
half a pound of moist sugar, two ounces of cream of tartar, and 
half an ounce of bruised ginger ; stir it well ; when cold, stir 
hi two table-spoons full of yeast, and cover it up ; exactly eight 
hours after setting it to work, strain it off; put it into stone 
bottles, and tie down the corks with a string. It will be lit for 
use in forty-eiffht hours. This will cost about eightpence, and 
fill ten of the DOttles which are usually sold at threepence or 
fourpence each. The stone bottles may be bought for nine- 
pence a dozen, and the corks and string will serve many times, 
if properly done— that is, made to untie, — then the cork will 
fly out uninjured. The bottles must be soaked in cold water, 
and scalded, each t^me of using. There is no liquor more re- 
freshing on a hot day, and it is very wholesome. 

209. I shall have a little more to say about cooking ; but 
a« It pnncipally relates to cookery for the sick, or for youu^ 
cftiidren, it will come in better when we speak about the ma. 
nagement of such. 


A^fi?\ ^/^^®* ®^y ^ ^^^ ^^'^s ^^^^ washing. If you onlv 
«o that oryexir o^ra family, it might aj wtUl lie done proi^erly 


as not ; and those who take in washuig for otheni, cannot ex« 
tect long to be employed unless their work b well done. 
The utmost cleanliness and care must be observed iu point 
of the washing utensils. The tubs should be scrubbed, and 
wiped dry when put away, and well dusted and rinsed whea 
tai^en out again for use. If you use a pan for washing, it 
'^ould never be used for any greasy purpose. The line, w'heii 
done with, should be taken in dry, not suffered to drag on 
the ground, but wound up in a skein, and hung somewhere 
out of the dust ; the pegs, if you use them, should be counted 
when put away ; both will want wiping again when brought 
oat for use. The ironing blanket and cloth should be dried^ 
(otherwise it will be liable to moths,} and put away free from 
dust. None but a complete slattern would use her red cloak 
for an ironing blanket. 

211. Water is a most important matter; you must have 
good water, and plenty of it, or linen cannot be made to look 
well ; rain water is the best, or river water ; if you have not 
either, the water must be softened with lees of soap or wood 
ashes, orwitli pearl ash ; but water so mixed will not do either 
for coloured things or flannel; it discharges colour, and 
thickens woollen things. If you have but a little rain water 
it should be secured for these; the suds that have washed 
flannels, if not too dirty, is the very best that can be used for 
washing coloured things the first time; the flannels must then 
be rinsed in clear warm soft water, and hung out immediately 
without wringing ; this water will do well to second the co- 
loured things. Let the coloured things be taken immediately 
from one water to the otlier, and not suffered to lie together 
damp, or they will be sure to dry streaky ; when properly 
washed, rince them twice in plenty of spring water, and hang 
out inamediately, without wringing. Gowns should be pinned 
up by the shoulders, rather than the tail, or the body .lining 
becomes discoloured. 

212. To prevent flannels, or woollen stockings from shrink, 
ing, pour over them, when new, boiling water ; suffer it to re- 
main till cold, then hang them up without wringing; and 
when dry, shake them well. 

213. Stockings should be pinned up by the toe, to prevent 
the feet becoming tliick. 

214. Greasy spots may be taken out of all kinds of woollen 
dotlis, blankets, scarlet cloaks or table baizes, without injury 
to the colour, by washing them with gall, instead of soap; tlie 
gall may be had at the butcner's, at threepence a pint ^ 
pint; mixed up in a good^sized tub of soil water^rill be sut. 


fieient for sereral artides; it will lather ^xacUt lik« aoap^ 
This u the process used by the scourens. The ai tides no 
washed will require to be several times riased in water^ to re- 
move the smell of the gall ; when dry, they should lie mangle^ 
and suffered to remain in the mangle all night , after whicji 
they will appear as good as new. 

215. A good washer will carefully examine the linen she 
has to wash, and rub in soap to such parts as most require it, 
as the collars and wristbands of shirts ; — ^ia this part of ih/d 
operation she will be careful that the water is not too hot, 
otherwise it will set the dirt — ^afterwards she twice well wasb^s 
out all her white things, in plenty of clear warm lather, shak- 
ing each article out, and examining that every spot and stain 
is removed — she then boils them ; taking care not to put too 
many in the copper at once. 

21 6. A small quantity of soft soap thrown into the boil^ helps 
to give a good colour to the linen — and if well washed out of 
the boil, (as all linen ought to be,) and afterwards well rinsed 
in plenty of spring water, no unpleasant smell will be retained. 
The rinsing water should be made moderately blue, by means 
of stone blue tied up in a flannel bag, and squeezed iu. 

217. Such things as are to be starched, will be much cleaner 
if they are first dried ; thoo dipped in the starch, be/ore it 4$ 
quite cold ; then dipped in cold water, and dried again ; then 
again dipped in cold water, and spread upon a coarse drjr 
doth, and rolled up ; by this mode also, their sticking to the 
ironing cloth will be prevented. 

218. The best way to make starch, is, very gradually |o 
moisten with cold water, a table spoonful of starch; when 
quite smooth, stir it into a pint of boiling water, m ith a morsd 
of white wax, and let it boil gently for several minutes, stirring 
it all the time ; when pom-ed out, cover it over mth a plate^ 
to prevent a skin forming at top^ which is both troublesome 
and wasteful. 

21 9. In ironing, be careful first to rub over sometirmg of little 
value, lest fine things should be either scorched or smeared. 

220. Those articles which have buttons or thick plaits;, 
should not be mangled; — the mangle is injured by them; bu- 
ftides, the buttons are broken to pieces, and the plaited articles 
cannot be made smooth. 

221. Let every thing be thoroughly dried and aired \j tha 
fire— otherwise they will have a tumbled, half finished appaoTr 
aace ; besides exposing the wearer to the danger of cutohing 

222. To^void waste at washing times, be careful— that tht 


eo|ipcT or iroQing^tove fires are not suffered to go oat, anj 
require lighting again ; — that the soap is not left iu the tub, oi 
even in a damp place ; — that the biue-bag is squeezed, and 
hung up immediately on being taken out of the rinsing tub ;-^ 
that large coals are not put under the copper nor the ironing. 
Btove, when cinders or coaI.dust would do; — tliat no more 
starch is made than is really wanted ;— that the horse is not 
hSt bare of linen, which will afterwards render it necessary to 
keep a fire an hour or two later than would otherwise hav« 
been required ;'^that the linen, as soon as ironed and 
thoroughly aired, be folded up and put away ; — and that all 
the ntensik be ckaned and restored to their places as soon as 
done with. 

223. It is a very good way, as the things pass through your 
hand on the ironing board, to put a pin in every article that 
wants a button, a string, or other repairs ; and in clearing th^ 
horse, put them apart with the stockings, that all may bs 
neatly set to rights. It is very mortifying, when you go to 
pot on any thing to find it ragged, or useless, for want of thow 
ktlle attentions; it is what has often thrown a man put of 
temper, and a house into confusion. Remember the true prou 
verbs of poor Richard, 'A stitch in time saves nine,' — and, 'A 
little neglect may breed a great mischief — for want of a nail 
the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and 
for want of a horse the rider was lost ; being overtaken and 
dain by an enemy, all for w^ant of care about a horse-shoe 


224. To whUeJwcLsh a Cotta^e,'^^" Put half a peck of lim^ 
into a tub ; pour in some water by degrees, and stir it well 
with a stick that is broad at one end. When the lime and 
water are well mixed, and the thickness of mud, strain it 
through a sieve into another vessel, when it will settle to the 
bottom ; skim off the little water that remains at the top, and, 
when you ai*e going to use it, mix it up with cold water to thip 
thickness of thin paint. The house will be quite dry, and also 
may be scoured, in two hours.'' 

225. Rush Candles, — " Rush candles are no expense, except 
the price of the grease, and give as much light as common dip 
eandles. Gather the meadow rushes when they are at their 
iiill substance ; they are then a body of pith, covered with a 
green skin; cut off both ends of the rush, and leave the 
prime part on an average about one foot and a half long; 
take pfif the skin nearly all round, leaving only a small 


idlp of it all the way np, which is necessary to hold 
the pith togctlier: the melted grease is then put iuto a 
tia tube the same length as the rushes; soak them iu it^ 
wtkdf when you take them out, lay them in a bit of bark taken 
off a young tree, that it may not be too large, and which Is 
fixed against the wall by two sti'aps put round it : here dip 
rushes may always be kept. They are carried about in die 
hand ; but to sit by, or work by, they are fixed iu high or low 
stands, to place on the ground or table, which have an iron 
part like a pair of pliers to hold the rush, and which is shifted 
forward as it bums down to the pliers/' 

' 226. The following lamp is easily prepared, and is by many 
persons preferred to rush candles. — Fill a common teacup 
with any kind of melted grease that is free from salt ; cut a 
round of paper, about the size of a penny piece ; fold it in 
several creases, so as to bring the middle to a point ; which 
twiri up in your Angel's, so diat it shall stand upright, and lay 
the outside part in a fiat round, about the size of a wafer, (in 
shape it wilt somewhat resemble a candlestick ;) when your 
cup of grease is cold, place this standing on the iiii<idle, and* 
on the part that stands upright, and which is to sei've as a 
wick, drop a litUe oil or tallow grease. This lamp will bum ten 
hours, without any attention: and hence is very useful Ar 
night burning ; but if wanted to work by, some grease mu t 
be occasionally supplied, so as to keep it to die top of die 

227. Much waste of tallow is occasioned in many families 
that can ill afford it, by careless and slovenly habits. Such a^; 
carrying a candle aslant, or not properly fixing it in the can. 
diesdck with paper — (if it is but a pound in a year that is lo 
Hasted, it does no good at all spilt on the floor;) — orsufferirg 
A lighted candle to stand in the draft of an open door (r 
broken window ; in which situation it will bum out in half the 
time ;-Tor, iu the day dm^j instead of putting the pieces of 
candle in the box, standing them in the candlestick in the 
influence of die fire or sunj— -or instead of sticking the small 
pieces upon a saveall, sunering them to bum away in die 
socket. I have been told that poor people cannot afibrd such 
things as candle .boxes and savealls. It would be more rea. 
«onable to say, they cannot afibid to do without them. I 
have even met widi professed servants who did not know whst 
was meant by a saveall ; for ths benefit of such, if such should 
be among my readers, I will describe a saveall : — ^it very much 
resembles the loose nozzle of a candlestick, only that instead o^ 
having a socket to drov the candle in, it has a irong to sddi 


the bit of candle on ; and ftny fragments collected when clean. 
ing the candlesticks, may be laid round, and will all melt, and 
supply the wick so long a lime that those who have not wit. 
nessed will scarcely believe. •*-Thi»e hints ought to have found 
their place under the head of Fragality, somewhere about pa- 
ragraph 123, but they were omitted^ and had better be out of 
their place than out of the book« 

228. To preserve Eggs, — The proper time of doine this k 
early in spring, when the hens lay plentifully, and before 
they begin to sit. There are several ways of preserving them 
for use or sale, at the season when they become dear. 1. By 
dipping in boiling water, and taking them out instantly ; — or^ 
iecondly,by oiling the shell, or rubbing them over with melted 
suet; and then packing them closely end^fays in lime, brati, 
or salt; the lid of the box in which they are packed being 
closely shut ; — thirdly, by placing them on shelves, vith small 
holes to receives one in each ; they must be placed endways 
and changed every other day. 

Of Keeping Animals, 8^c. 


229. A cow of the smallest sort common in England is the 
l>est for the cottager, which will not eat more than eighty or 
ninety pounds of good moist food in the twenty .four hours. 
The wanner and dner the cowshed is, the better, and the more 
milk she will give. The floor should slope a little, and be 
paved with stones of some sort. Fix up at the head of the 
<^w a broad trough or box, and feed her always at daylight, 
at sunset, and once besides. 

230. As to food, natural grass is the best a cow can have. 
If the cottager has a little close, he will find it answer to cut 
daily as much as will be eaten in the day, and carry it to the 
<^o«, not allowing her to tread about; but tliere is one thing 
to be said against this plan, viz. — tliat the land will be a great 
loser for want of the urine of tlie cow, which tends greatly to 
promote its iruitfulness. A meadow so used must be deared 


of weeds every autumn, fresh grass seed cast upon the hum 
places, and then a good coat of manure laid on. 

231. It is not consistent with tlie health and comfort of ^ 
.cow, to confine her entirely to the house or shed; besideSi 
exercise abroad tends to increase the quantity of milk« If 
there is a common, the cow should be allowed to remain out 
or come in at her pleasure ; being plentifully fed morning and 
evening with cut grass, as above. Where there is no commoai, 
■he should be led abroad daily, to graze along the sides of thp 
iXMids and Lanes ; — a little child can do this. 

232. Pure water is of great consequence to the health and 
productiveness of a cow. 

233. Early York and sugar loaf cabbages and lettuces, oq- 
casionally, afford a good change of diet, and increase the 
milk. If you have no grass land, and the cow is fed princi- 
pally on cabbages, it must be allowed a small quantity of good 
hay daily ; for whatever speculative men may say, practical 
men know, that a cow cannot be ivell kept on cabbage anjl 
Swedish turnips alone. 

234. For winter food, hay is the chief dependance ; — ^the 
best hay is best, and. a good cow will pay for it — ^but the lat. 
termath will do — or even oat straw. J he common white tur- 
nips are poor watery food ; but Swedish turnips are good— 
oarrct^ and parsnips also afe an excellent winter food — ^ poteu 
toes are given they should be boiled or baked; or if given 
raw and bruised, hay i^ust be given with them, or they will 
disorder tlie cows ; but the other roots are much better. A 
cow may be allowed two pecks of carrots a day. 

235. The following is an account of a cow, kept by a pet*. 
ma in Sussex, who had not the advantage of common, and 
but a small range of land in his power ; on that he r^sed har 
green ^ood. She was fed during the summer on clover, rye- 
grass, lucem, and carrots, three or lour times a day. In utn* 
ter, with hay, bran, and grains, properly mixed ; sometimes a 
double handfuU of malt-dust, (not more,) mixed with a feed of 

, grains and pollard. She was fed often, particularly while 
milking. The manger was kept clean, and no sour grains or 
rotten mouldy vegetables given : never suffered to overcharge 
her stomach, but to be well filled, and kept with a good 
healthy appetite. She was never tied up; had always h^r 
choice to lie abroad or in the house. Always, when milked, 
drij^d clean to the last drop. Being so well fed, she went 
dry only seventeen days before calving. Here is a statemfinft 
€4' her produce and profit 


April 6 to April 20, miik 8 quarts a day. Butter, 61bs. a week 
April 21 to June 1, milk 22 ditto ditto, ISlba 

tune 2 to Oct. 5, milk 20 ditto ditto, leibs. 

«kt 6 to Nov. 30, milk 15 ditto ditto, ISHxbl 

l^ec. 1 to Feb. 8, milk 13 ditto ditto, lllbs 

Wi. 9 to March 14, milk 10 ditto ditto, 81b6. 

March 15 to April 4, milk 7 ditto ditto, dibs. 

©TV for calving. 

Sale of produce. — Sale of calf at 14 days old. — 
Butter, at Is, 4d. per pound — Skimmed milk, at 
Id, per quart.— Dimg valued at £3.— in all ... £76 7 3 
X oiax expenses ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• m'w i4 x 

A year's profit on a single cow ... ... ,.. ... 51 13 1 

If any cottager should be able by good management to make 
a cow as profitable as this, he would find her a treasure indeed ; 
if it were but half the gain, it would be welJ worth all the 
attention required, and essentially promote the comfort of the 

236. When a cow is near calving, she should be under shelter 
in a roomy place, and not tied up ; some waim water should be 
given her^ and a warm mash or two, with some sweet hay. 
The calf -must be allowed to suck the first milk, till the flow has 
abated, and there is no danger of inflammation ; — if the calf be 
we^, it should be held up to the teat. Some young cows have 
the udders stretched and inflamed two or three days before 
calvmg ;— in this case they may be relieved by drawing oflT 
part of the milk daily. It generally answers best to a cot- 
tager to sell tlie calf as soon as it is bom ; or even if he cannot 
^ that, to kill it rather than sufler it to consume the milk 
which is so valuable to his family. 

237. The hours of milking should be regular ; and it is of 
the utmost consequence that the udder be perfectly drained of 
milk ; the habit of leaving milk in the udder being greatly in- 
jurious ; besides that, every succeetling drop of milk is riclier 
than the one before it— in fact, the last half pint of milk has 
twelve times as much butter in it as tlie first — it may be said 
all the butter. 

238. Those who have a cow or two, will find the'keep of tt 
breeding sow, or two or three young pigs, a very trifl ng ex- 
pense ; the stalks and outside leaves of cabbages, that will not 
4o for a cow, will be very good food for a pig. 



239. The churns, pans, pails, shelves, floor, walls, and eytry 
thing about the dairy, must be perfectly clean; the pani 
sliould be frequently boiled, and scalded with boiling water 
every time of using. Nothing so much contributes to keep 
the milk and butter sweet, as Uiorough cleanhness. ' 

240. I have just been told something worth trial by those 
to whom firing is an object. A capital dairy mistress, whose 
butter was praised all the country round, in very hot dry wea- 
ther, when she had no occasion for fire, would thoroughly 
wash all her milk pans in cold water^ and stand them in the 
influence of the sun all day, bringing them in just in time 
to be thoroughly cool to receive the milk ; — tlib she found 
answer for several days, or even a week ; at which intervals 
she scalded them as ususd. Observe, this method will not do, 
except when tlie sun has very great power. 

241. A little niti% ^salt petre) put into the milking pail be. 
fore the cow is milkea, will effectually prevent flavour of the 
turnips in milk or butter. 

242. Milk should be set immediately. Skim off the cream 
very twelve hours in summer; every twenty .four hours in 

winter. Shift the cream into clean pans — daily in winter, 
twice a day in summer ; stirring it several times a day with a 
dean wooden spatula. 

243. Churning should take place at least twice a week io 
summer. Frozen cream always makes rank butter. For this 
reason, in Scotland, during a severe frost, they chum the 
whole of the milk daily. The cream must be strained into the 
chum through a fine sieve or linen cloth. Butter ought not 
to come in less than three quarters of an hour. In sunmua 
heat, the cooler you chum the better ; first cooling your churn 
with cold water, and then letting it stand during churning in ai 
tub of cold water. In very cold weather, the chum may be 
placed near the fire, or warmed with water, in the same. man- 
ner as it is to be cooled in summer; but it is better avoided 
li possible. 

244. If the butter is very backward, put in a table spoonful 
«; two^ (according to the quantity of cream) of good vinegal, 
""'^^ ^h a small quantity of wami milk, 
butter" ^^^^ *® butter is thoroughly come, stram off the] 
dairv ^ *^^ P^* *® butter in cold water, (some goodJ 
it into sm'^lP" ^^y ^* ^® ^^^ ^^^ washed ;) afterwards dividf 
wo den «r ^^mj^ upon a sloping board ; beat it well with a 

spatula, until entirdv free from milk, and quite firm' 


sold water being at hand^ throw on the board occasionally, 
and, if you choose, to wash the pats ; let the lumps, when made 
up, be spread separately on a cloth, that they may not stick 
together. Those who choose a little salt, add it, when break, 
ing the butter into lumps to beat it. 

246. To preserve Butter for winter use, — Let the salt be 
perfectly dried before the &« ; roll it with a glass bottle till 
it is as fine as possible : spread a layer of salt at the bottom of 
the jar; then press and beat the butter down with a haid 
wooden rammer; cover the top with a thick layer of salt; so 
that when turned to brine it shall entirely cover the butter. 
The best jars for this purpose, are of Nottingham stone- ware, 
with lids. 


247. In many cases where a cow cannot be kept, a pig may ; 
and certainly wherever a cow is kept. The sty should be 
situated upon a dry foundation, as well as sheltered above ; 
it should be cleaned out and washed down every day. 
It is well known that pigs will live wallowing in the mire ; but 
it is not, as much as it ought to bo, considered, that they will 
thrive much better in a cleanly lodging. Their troughs should 
be iron-bound. 

248. Breeding sows do not in general answer so well for 
cottagers, as to buy a pig of about four months old, early in 
spring ; however, for those who choose to keep a sow, at the time 
of her bringing forth, she wants good attention, being careless^ 
and apt to i-oU over her pigs, or otlierwise injure them. The 
first food should consist of nourishing wash, pot-liquor, or milk 
thickened with fine pollard and barley meal ; the same food is 
proper for the young pigs. At tliis time the sow requiies to 
be well fed ; so indeed she does before pigging ; it is a very 
false notion to have her spare at that time ; if she be so, iht 
{Ngs will be worth nothing ; and her strength be completely 
reduced by a week's suckling. 

249. Besides two meals daily, as above directed, she should 
have one of dry meat ; as a pint of peas or beans, with half a 
peck of carrots, boiled potatoes, or the like ; potatoes alone 
are a poor dependilnce' ; and the young pigs ought not to be 
fed with them, or with any loose vegetable tra.^, until three 
months old. The sow may be let out to air herself at plea, 
sure, and ailer awhile the pigs to accompany her, but never in 
bad weather. The pigs may be weaned at two months old; 
aiW which the sow should be shut up, and well fed; she 
should farrow in January and July. 


2fiO. The young pigs, on meaning, should have at least a 
month of delicate feeding, warm lodging, and care ; the same 
food as while they were with the mother. They may mdeed be 
ream! much cheaper, but not so profitably. From four montto 
dd, or rather less, a pig will graze, eat tops and stumps o 
cabbages, Swedish turnips, in short, any thing of that kin<^ 
that IS otherwise useless ; all dish wash and pot liquor, grains if 
you brew, a little of any kind of com, beans, peas, oats, barley, 
fye, buckwheat, or tares; linseed, boiled with potatoes, makes 
^od wash. Any kind of com may be given to pigs m tte 
gtraw ; they are good threshers. Through the summer months 
Ihey will chiefly subsist themselves abroad, upon clover, lu- 
cciu or tares ; and in autumn upon acorns. Very young pig* 
especially ought not to be left abroad in continual rams ; and 
they will always pay for a feed of old beans with their clover. 

261. As to fattening, it may be conducted cither m confine, 
ment or at large in a yard ; a cottager, most likely, ^»1 con- 
fine his pig to the sty ; they thrive best singly ;— they should 
be fed, if possible, three times a day ; taMng care to allow Ji^ 
so much, that the animal may be thoroughly satisfied, and the 
trough entirely cleared :— by this plan the animal will fatten 
most speedily and effectually, while needless waste is prevented. 
The pig must now be allowed no more clover, acorns, or pc 
tatoes. Skimmed milk, and pea, oat, or barley meal make 
the best food, and answer the best too ; the meat so fed h&B^ 
superior to any other in flavour, substance, and weight;— 
bean-fed pork is hard and ill-flavoured. A pig will eat two or 
three pecks of com a week ; a hog, upwards of a bushel, ac- 
cording to his size— his allowance should be gradually in- 
creased ; do not gradge him food ; he cannot eat too much. 
A poor fed pig is worse than no pig at all ; if you cannot a£> 
ford to feed him well, you had better not engage in it ; the 
pig and his sty should be kept very clean— he should be fr»- 
quently washed and combed— will thrive ail the better for it 
--his food, as much as possible, should be given hot. From 
November to March is the best season for killing. 


252. Boys are in general very fond of rabbits ; they are 
pr^ty animals, nimble in their movements, always under coa- 
troJ, and the produce has not long to be waited for. Three 
ao« and a buck will give you a rabbit to eat every three day* 
i^nwTit^oT' ^^ * y^^^ ^^^ ^^^ than will be gained in Hat 

musement^**'*^' besides being attended to as an innocent 
9 instead of being slaved after at unseasonabU 


lioujs, and to the great destruction of health and clothes^ to say 
nothing about breaking the laws of your country, and exposing 
yourself to continual danger and disgrace. A poacher is never 
a respectable Uiriving man. Beside, it is a great matter to 
give children early habits of tenderness and carefulness towards 
animals — teaching them to set a value on them — to take 
pleasure in watching their growth, and to become skilful in 
the management of them ; — thb is a valuable qualification in 
a labourer. A farmer don't much care who he sets to hedging 
and ditching ; but it is a matter of serious consideration who 
shall be trusted with the team or the flock; and for the man 
to be trust-worthy in this respect, the hoy must have been in 
the habit of being kind and considerate towards animals ; and 
nothing is so likely to give him that habit as his seeing from 
his infancy, ammals taken great care of, and treated with great 
kindness, by his parents, and having now and then a little 
tiling to call his own. These remarks are not exactly in 
place ; but having met with the substance of them in a book 
1 consulted, and thinking them very just and useful, I give 
tliem a place here, rather than shut them out altogether. 

253. To return to rabbits. They should be in a warm and 
diy place, and yet airy and very clean ; each rabbit hutch 
should have two rooms, one for feeding and one for sleeping in ; 
tlieir troughs should be bound with tin, as they are apt to 
gnaw the wood ; the hutches should stand a foot or more from 
the ground, for the convenience of cleaning them ; they should 
also be set a little sloping backwards, with a very small hole 
or crack at which the urine may run off. The dung of these 
animals is very valuable, and, if intended for sale, should be 
carefully kept free from litter. 

254. The food proper for rabbits is, oats, peas, wheat, poU 
lard, buck- wheat, carrots, parsnips, Jerusalem artichokes, (if 
(Potatoes are used, they must be baked or steamed,) luceiti, 
cabbage leaves, clover, tares, furze, parsley, sow thistles, dan- 
delion roots, clover and meadow hay, pea and bean straw ; if 
grains are given, they must be mixed with good dry meal or 
pollard. They should be fed at least twice, if possible, three 
times a day. 

255. Rabbits may indeed be kept, and even fatted upon 
roots, good green meat, and hay ; but they will pay for com ; 
the better the food, the greater weight, better quality, and 
more profit. Rabbits which have as much com as they will 
eat, can never take any harm in being allowed almost an 
equal portion of good substantial vegetables. The chief thing 
to be ttvcMded with rabbits, is too much moisture, either ia 



dieir food or habitations ; they are just as liable to the rot as 
sheep, and from the same causes ; but with regular and care, 
fill attention, no live stock is less liable to disease than 

256. The does should not be allowed to have more than 
SIX litters a year ; — the young ones may be removed from her 
at six weeks; — ^at first, die young rabbits should have oats at 
least twice a day, or pea meal, mixed with fresh grains, and 
but a small proportion of green food. To a breeding doe, 
botii before and while she suckles, plenty of good green meat 
should be given, and plenty of solid food too. She will bring 
forth from five to ten at a litter ; but if the number excee<l 
six, it is better to destroy the weakest ; six, or at most seven, 
is quite large tax enough on the mother. When her time of 
kindling is near at hand, and she begins to pluck off the fine 
flue from her body, plenty of sweet dry hay should be given 
her to assist in making her bed. Tf she should appear weak 
or chilly after bringing forth, let her have some warm fresh 
grains, or fine pollard, scalded, or barley meal mixed with a 
little beer. 


257. The warmest and driest soils are best adapted for the 
purpose of breeding and rearing poultry. The greatest sue 
cess may be expected, attended with the least trouble ; how. 
ever, cottagers who choose to keep them, must use the best 
place they can command. If possible, it should be a gentle 
slope, that the damp may run off. They should have heaps 
of dry sand, or sifted ashes, to roll themselves in, as this 
cleanses their feathers, and preserves their health ; — ^their 
roosting place should be dry and warm, and kept perfectly 
clean; — for nests, little flat baskets placed against the sides of 
the hen-house, or bits of wood nailed up for the purpose, do 
very well ; but boxes do better, as the wicker work lets in tlie 

258. The fowls for breeding should be young. A cock of 
two years old, to four or five hens, whose age should be from 
two to five years. Short and soft straw is best for making nests. 
The number of eggs for sitting must be from nine to fifteen, 
according to the size of the hen ; they should be marked ; and 
when the hen leaves her nest it should be examined, that if 
she have laid any more, they may be removed. Corn and 
water should be placed near a sitting hen, and removed as 
soon as she is satisfied. Some hens will almost starve them- 
selves, rather than quit the nest in search of food ; — others, i^ 


^d is always before them, will be coodnually getting up tc 
partake of it! 

259. When tlie period of hatching arrives, the chickens first 
hatched should be removed, lest the ben, in her anxiety to 
ieed them, should leave her task unfinished. They will re- 
quire no food, though kept from the hen for several hours ;— 
4ey must be secured in a basket of wool or soft hay, and put 
in a moderate heat ; if the weather be cold, near the fire. 
The first food should be split grits, and eggs boiled hard, or 
curd chopped small ; afterwards tail wheat. All watery food, 
soaked bread, or potatoes, are improper. Their water should 
>>e pure, and often changed ; they must be kept under a coop 
three or four days, after which they may be suffered to range ; 
they must not be let out too early in the morning, or while 
the dew is yet upon the grass ; they must also be guarded 
against sudden changes of the weather. As to feeding and 
fattening fowls, those thrive best, and are the finest for eating, 
that live most in their natural state; picking up the stable 
offal, and barn-door scatterings, together with a daily feeding 
or two. It is a mistaken notion to coop them a week or two 
with a view to increasing their fat ; they pine for liberty, slight 
their food, and lose instead of gaining flesh. Instead of the 
tail com which is usually given to poultry, it is much more 
advantageous to allow them the weightiest and best ; the dif- 
fei-ence will be seen, not only in the size and flesh of the fowls, 
but in the weight and goodness of the eggs ; two of which go 
farther in domestic use, than three from hens fed on common 
com and washy potatoes. Barley and wheat are the great 
dependence for chicken poultry ; the best oats will do ; but 
neither go so far as otlier corns, nor agree so well with the 
chickens. Buck-wheat, cabbage, mangel-wurzel leaves, par- 
sley, and other herbs, chopped tine, may be given them. 

260. Turkeys. — The hen and brood must be housed six weeks ; 
mnd afterwards the hen had better be cooped a fortnight longer, 
to prevent her travelling farther than the strength of her 
young ones is equal to. Young turkeys should never, even 
in dry weather, go out before the dew is off the ground, till 
they are as large as an old partridge, and well covered with 
feathers : in wet weather they sliould be always under cover, 
and fed with barley meal, or milk turned into curds, and mada 
fresh every day, which is excellent for all young poultry. 
Water is preferable to milk for their drinking. Damp and wet 
an* always to be avoided for p: ultry. 

261 . When young turkeys get their head feathers, they are 


hardy, and want room to prowl about in. Never let turkey* 
be poor. Barley meal, given tliem fresh and fresh, will very 
soon fatten them, either in the house, under a coop, or running 
about: boiled carrots and Swedish turnips are also good. 
They would prefer roosting abroad, in high fxees, in the sum. 
mer season, if that could be permitted with safety. Turkeys 
are tender, and delicate to rear ; but with due care and atten« 
tion they pay well. 

262. Ducks, — A duck will cover from eleven to fifteen eggs. 
The white eggs are produced by white and iight-coloured 
ducks; the greenish blue from those of a dark colour. In 
setting a duck, it should be observed to give her all eggs of 
her own colour : she will not require attention during sitting ; 
but having chosen for herself a secret and safe place, will, as 
occasion requires, carefully cover up her oggs, and seek for 
herself food and refreshment of water. After hatching, when 
the duck begins to move from the nest, with her brood, she 
should be placed under a coop, at a distance from any other 
ducks, upon the short grass, if the weather be tine, or under 
sbf^lter if otherwise. A wide flat dish of water, often to be re- 
newed, standing at hand ; barley or any other meal, the first 

263. If the weather is fine, and the ducklings strong, tliey 
need not be confined to the coop longer than a fortnight ; and 
rather earlier than that they may be allowed to enjoy the 
pond, but not too long at a time, least of all in wet weather. 
If young ducks scour, and appear rough and draggled, they 
i^iust be kept within a while, and have bean or pea meal mixed 
with their ordinary food, or with buck.wheat. The straw 
should be often removed, that the brood may have a dry and 
comfortable bed, and the mother should be well fed with 
solid corn. 

264. Whatever animals are kept should be well fed, both for 
policy and humanity. Duck eggs are often hatched by hens; 
out it is a cruel thing— considering the distress it occasions the 
poor hen, when she supposes her little ones to be in danger of 
drowning. For fatting ducks or geese, barley in any form 
should never be used; oat and pea meal, mixed vith pot 
liquor, is the best thing for that purpose. Ducks who have 
their range are very fond of acorns, and fat quickly upon 
them ; but the flesh is not quite so delicate. 

265. Geesc^^Geese can be kept to advantage only where 
there are green commons; there they are very hardy, long* 
lived, and profitable to their owners. If well kept, a goosfe 


vill lay one hundi*ed eggs in the year. A nest should ^ |m^ 
jiared for the goose in a secure place^ as soon as by carrying 
straw about in her bill^ she declares her readiness to lay. An 
early spring is favourable to geese ; as it allows time for two 
broods in tihe season. This end may also be attained by feed* 
ing breeding geese throughout the winter with solid corn ; and 
in the breeding season, giving them boiled barley, malt, fresh 
grains, and fine pollard mixed with ale. When geese are to 
be fatted, give them some sort of com, Swedish turnips, boiled 
«r raw, with com, carrots, white cabbages, or lettuces. An 
equal quantity of meal of rye and peas, mixed with skim milk^ 
forms an excellent food for either geese or ducks. 

266. Pigeons, — A few of these may be kept about any cot* 
tage. They cause but little trouble, take care of their young 
ones, and do not scratch or do any mischief in a garden. 
They may be fed with tares, peas, small beans, or buck. wheat, 
and rape seed : cleanliness is very essential to their comfort 
vad thriving. The floor of the place they inhabit should be 
aire wed with sand or sifted gravel, and swept out daily. 
Pigeops are very fond of water; and will appear greatly re- 
fif^ahed and dehghted by exposure to a shower of rain. When 
kept in doors, a wide pan of fresh water should be always 
within their reach, in which they may bathe, which greatly 
promotes. their health, cleanliness, and comfort 

267. Where many pigeons are kept, it is a good way to mix 
some loam, sand, old mortar, fresh lime, and bay salt, with a 
little strong smelling spice ; as allspice, carraway seeds, or cori. 
ander or cununin seeds, or the drug asafoetida; and moisten 
it into a consistence, with chamber-Iye. I'he smell of this 
attracts the pigeons to their place ; and pecking at this mass 
18 a great amusement to the birds, and in some way or other 
seems to have an influence in preserving them in health. 

268. To begin keeping pigeons, they must not have flown 
at large before you get them ; they must be kept two or threes 
days shut up in the place that is to be their home, well fed, and 
gratified with the above preparation. 


269. *' The best hives are those made of clean unblighted 
rye straw, with a thatch of the same, which should be replaced 
by a new one every three or four months. The hives should 
be in a shed, with a top, back, and ends, to keep them warm 
in wint-er ; they should not, however, be too hot in summer, 
and they should face the south-east, or at least be always 


sheltered from the north, and in whiter from the west also. 
In a dry summer you should place clear water near the hire^ 
in something they can drink out of ; they collect more honey 
from buck. wheat than from any thing else ; it need not be 
added, all garden flowers are valuable, on account of the food 
they furnbh for bees. Never keep the same stall or family 
over two years, unless you want to increase your number of ^ 
hives : the swarm of one summer should always be taken in 
the autumn of the next year. 

270. " The chief thing to attend to, in bees, is to keep away 
^wls and birds, particularly the bee-bird. If you see wasps, 
hornets, or ants, watch them home, and kill them in the night 
by fire or boiling water. The hives should be placed on a 
bench, with tin round the legs, to keep down rats and mice ; 
but as this will not keep off ants, take a green stick, twist it 
round in the shape of a ring, lay it on the ground round the 
leg of the bench, and a few inches from it, and cover it with 
tar. When the bees hang out, and hesitate to swanfl, if yott 
put on a top hive, they will soon fill it ; when they have done 
so, take it off for the sake of the honey, of which perhaps you 
may find a great deal ; put another hive oin directly, and in 
another fortnight take it off again, and take out the honey. 

271. ''There are two kinds of wax, white and yellow; the 
first is bleached, the last is as it comes out of the hive. After 
the honey is taken out of the comb, the remaining part is put 
into a kettle with some water, in which it is melted over a mo- 
derate fire, and then pressed through a linen cloth to straiu it* 
Take the scum off before it is cold, and pour it into moulds. 
Wax is bleached, or made white, by spreading it in very thiu 
cakes, and exposing it to the air both day and night : when 
quite white, the cakes are melted, and put in moulds." 

272. Dr. Mavor, in his account of bees, states, that a po<MP 
cottager cleared in one season, £27. by his bees Such suc- 
cess is seldom met with ; however, it is moderately calculated, 
that a poor family, with care, might almost depend on clear, 
ing the amount of their rent, and perhaps shoe eaiher inte 
the ^Nirgain. 

[ 103 ] 

Gardener*8 Calendar. 


273. " Let every thins^ be done in the garden tliat the 
ther nill admit of. Dig and trench a]l vacant spots. Wheel 
in dung. Prune apple^ pear, and plum trees. Clear them 
from moss^ thus : in a mild^ wet, ^^S^ ^^y> throw quick lima 
over the branches; wherever it strikes it will kill the moss; 
scrape it from the bodies of the trees. And whenever you 
boil meat, take the grease, while warm, and rub the trunks o^ 
the trees often ; this will cure the canker in them : or train oil 
may be used for the same purpose. 

274. " Plant trees and shrubs the whole month, if the wea. 
ther is mild ; and observe always to open the ground well be. 
ibre you •plant. Let it be dug two spades deep, if your soil 
will allow it. 1 his is a good time, now the leaves are off, to 
prune your goosi'berry and currant bushes. If a gooseberry 
oush is lell to itself, it soon gets thick and matted, and so full 
of wood, as to shut out the sun and air. The fruit will thes^ 
be of a small size, and but little of it. Nothing in tliis world 
does well without industry. Use it then even in the matter of 
a gooseberry bush. Thin your tree well, cut out (he wood 
from the middle, and you will have the branches covered with, 
fruit, and of a much larger size. The young trees should be. 
kept down by shortening the young shoots. 

275. " A rose, or a honeysuckle, growing up the side of a 
cottage, gives it a mighty pretty appearance ; and it will be 
much prettier still, if these trees are properly managed. 
Don't be afraid of using the knife. The young shoots should. 
l)e generally shortened, just above a bud; and several new 
slioots will Uien grow out ; every new shoot will have a bunch 
of flowers, so that your tree becomes full, and handsome, and 
gay all over."* 

276. If you have any crocus, narcissus, or other bulbs, out 
of ground, they should now be put in early in the month, if 
tlie weatlier is mild ; but if otherwise should be delayed. 

277. All hardy herbaceous plants may now be planted; 
such as golden-rod, lichness, Canterbury bells, sweet-williams^ 
London-pride, &c. 

278. At the latter end of the month, if the weather is miid 

• Guttager*s Muathly Vis» «» 


Hnd your situation sheltered and sunny, you may sow radish^ 
spinach, lettuce, and pai'sley. Some people sow pc^as and 
l:)eans; but in nine seasons out of ten, it is only to the loss of 
their seeds and their trouble. If vou have any groimd bare, 
by all means plant it with cabbages ; which are sure to come 
in use in some shape or other. 


279. If you choose now, you may begin to sow peas and 
beans — small salad and radishes in a warm border. Plant 
garlick, chives, shalots, potatoe. onions and tree-onions, (see 
paragraph 417.) Make layers, and plant cuttings and suckers 
of trees and shrubs. Any pinks or carnations growing old and 
shabby, showing their brown stalky roots above the ground* 
take up, and divide into smaller pieces, either pulling the 
branches apart, or splitting the roots with a knife, so that each 
brings away some of the fibrous root with it ; they will readily 
grow again. Thus you will multiply your roots, und have 
many more, and much handsomer blossoms than if you left 
the roots to overgrow. 

280. All pruning and training of trees should now be 


281. Any work directed for the last months, may still be 
performed with advantage; and indeed, unless the season m 
remarkably mild, and the situation warm and sheltered, it is 
the safest way, (and, in the end, perhaps you are just as for- 
ward,) to do nothing till March, except preparing your ground 
with manure, (if required,) cleai-ing of weeds, and getting all io 
good order. Now, however, is the time to work. Every spare 
moment this month and next, may be advantageously em. 
ployed in your garden. Among trees and shrubs finish all 
removals. Cut scions for grafting, see paragraph 427. Ground 
dug up in ridges should now be levelled down, as wanted, for 
■owing and planting, as it will now work in excellent order. 
Sowing should now be performed in the principal crops ; as 
onions, leeks, carrots, parsnips, beets, radishes, spinach, lettuce, 
cabbages, brocoli, borecole, savoys, peas, beans, celery, cauli. 
flowers. Also of small herbs ; parsley, small sal I ad, radishes^ 
marigolds, nasturtiums, corn sallad, fennel, thyme, savoury, 
marjoram, and hyssop. 

282. Early potatoes should be planted in the beginninir oC 
this month ; choosing a warm situation. Jerusalem artichokea 
may now be planted ; thev are not choice in their situations; 


but will do yery well in any inferior spot, as sliady^ cff to 
the north, provided it be not too damp. 

283. Early in this month, plant small bu!^s for duck onions, 
see paragraph 418. Part roots, or replace any which maY 
have died off in the winter, of all kinds of sweet herbs ; such 
as thyme, marjoram, &c. Also lavender, rosemary, and rue. 

284. Strawberries may be planted now. 

285. Plant old onions for escaUions and seeding. 

286. Onions should be sown in the richest ground, in beds 
from three to six feet in width ; rake the seed in regularly : a 

, few may be sowed thick, or in rows to draw young in summer; 
let the beds be kept very clear from weeds. 

287. Carrots may be sowed in beds of a similar size. The 
soil should be light, and dug very deep, to allow room for th« 
carrots to throw their roots dieir full depth. They will reauire 
frequent thinning ; the young carrots are much esteemea for 
the table, and will generally sell ; if not, they are excellent 
food for Kabbits. 

288. Parsnips are particularly valuable for cottagers; being 
both nourishing and profitable. Sixpenny worth of seed, well 
sowed and trodden in, will produce more meals than four sacks 
of potatoes ; and, what is material to those whose gardens are 
small, will not take more ground than would be i*equi]'ed to 
grow half a sack of potatoes. 

289. Lettuce plants that have stood the ii inter, may now, 
if the weather be mild, be planted out at a foot distance. 

2d0. Marrow-fat,, and imperial.dwarf peas, 
and broad beans, may be planted once a fortnight through 
March and April, for crops in succession. 

291. Towards the end of the month, make a hot bed if you 
intend to have one. 

292. Mint, balm, and sage roots may now be parted; or 
slips taken from the young spring shoots. 

293. Cape brocoli, for heading at Michaelmas, may be 
sowed from the end of March to the end of April. 

294. Borecole, and Brussels sprouts, and savoys, for autumn 
and winter heading, and spring sprouts. 

295. General crops of potatoes should be planted before 
the end of this month ; also horse-radish. 

296. Keep every part well weeded; flower beds neatly 
trimmed ; box or thrift edgings planted or repaired. Shelter 
wall trees in blossom, if the weather is severe. Head down 
Young trees that are inclined to grow straggly; cutting each 
last year's branch to about five or six eyes or shoots. I'liis 



metliod i^iU cause them to shoot bushy, and m a haudaomi 

297. At the end of March, or beginning of April, accordiLg 
to the early or late advancement of the season, grafting may 
oe performed. See paragraph 427. 

298. Finish pruning and training vines, and make layers of 
Yines ; slitting the bark at an eye, laying down the branch, 
and forking it down to the depth of six or eight inches; cover 
it up with mould. 

299. Hardy annual flower seeds, such as sweet peas, lupins, 
con vol vol us, migpiionette, stocks, India pinks, &c. may be 
sowed in the open ground ; and tender sorts in hot beds. In. 
deed if you have a hot bed it is an advantage to raise most of 
your flower seeds in it : they will be considerably forwarder in 
flowering ; and this, if you eitlier sell nosegays, or keep bces^ 
is an object worth attending to. 

300. Any plants in pots will reouire to have the earth stir, 
red up ; a little of it removed, supplied with fresh good mouldy 
and a little water. If the weather is mild, a little air may be 
admitted to geraniums, myilles, &c. 


301. All the work of last month may be carried on, and 
should be completed as early as possible. 

302. Asparagus beds may be made, — and of old beds the 
earth must be forked up, and loosened to a moderate depth, 
and rake the surface even. 

303. Hoe beans and peas that are up, and draw earth to 
the stems. 

304. If you are short of room, you may plant garden beans 
between your potatoe sets ; and so get two crops on the same 
ground. You may also raise a crop of radishes on your 
asparagus beds. 

305. Cauliflowers plant out — ^also prick out lettuce plants, 
as they advance sufliciently. 

31)6. Sow York, Battersea, and sugar-loaf cabbage for au. 
tumn ; and finish planting out what have stood the winter, Tom' 
summer crops. 

307. Sow cauliflower seed, for a late summer and autumi 

30!3. Sow a principal crop of celery in an open situation ; 
and prick out early raised plants. 

301). Early in April, (if not late in March,) sow cucumbers 
in pots in your hot bed. When they have four or six leaves^ 


transDlant tbcm into the earth of tlie bed; or some may b« 
kept back till the season is farther advanced; then to be 
planted in a warm border^ under glass or oiled lights. A little 
air may be admitted to the beds daily ; and occasional water* 
ings ; keeping always a bottle of rain or river water within the 
frame> to be of a proper warmth for that purpose. A mode* 
rate warmth must be kept up in the beds, by lining with hoi 
dung to the sides, and covenng over the glasses at n^ht with 
mats, straw, or furze. 

310. A little endive may be sowed now ; but it is rather apt 
to run. 

31 1 . Early dwarf sorts of kidney beans may be set in a 
warm border late in this month. Potatoes may still he planted. 

312. Peas, when six or eight inches high, must he slicked. 

313. Spinach, the round-leaved sort, may he sowed once a 
fortnight, either broad cast, or in broad shallow drills, or he- 
tween rows of young cabbage, cauliflowers, or beans. Hoe and 
thin early spinach. 

314. Mustard for seed, to make flour for table use, may now 
bt; sowed, either broad cast, or in diills. 

315. Rhubarb (for tarts) may now be planted at two feet 
distance, as the plants are very lai'ge and spreading. 

316. To produce seed, leave some spinach, par^iley, beets, 
celery, endive, small salading, Welsh onions, chervU, leeks, 
1 rccoli, borecole, turnips, parsnips, carrots, and other plants 
of last season. See paragraph 421. 

317. Any branches of iruit trees, blown about by the March 
winds, must be attended to, and secured by trailing and tying ; 
where any decayed shoots, or ends of shoots appear, prune 
them to the live wood. Clear all fruit trees from suckers at 
tlie roots. Dig round and between gooseberries, raspberries, 
and currants. Caterpillars and snails must be watched, and 
cleared off, 

318. Any aonual flowers now sown, should be placed at 
once where they are to remain. Stocks and warriors, which 
have stood the winter, may now be planted out for flowering ; 
a^so ten -week stocks. 

i^l9. Afiican and French marigolds, China asters, dahliahs^ 
&c. may be sowed in the hot bed, if not already done. 

020. Finish planting out carnations from small pots into 
larger, or in the open ground; also pinks, daisies, sweet. 
wiiUams, &c. 

321, Sow Brompton and queen stocks, for flowering next 
year ; and plenty of ten-weeks. 



322. Sow spinach ; a few turnips for August. Hoe, wftS, 
and thin the principal crops. Keep the ground neat between 
rows of peas and beans, by frequent hoeing and raking ; also 
between potatoe rows. Stick peas before tliey become too talL 
As soon as beans are in full blossom^ top them. 

323. Thin fruit trees ; clear off blights, crumpled leaves, 
and pinch off clumsy shoots. Water strawberiies in blossom, 
and be careful to do it gently. Water radishes daily, when 
the sun is upon them ; — ^this is the only way to have good 
quick.grown radishes. 

324. Sow scarlet-runners, which are the most jMX)ductive of 
French beans ; and white runners, which are the best for pick- 
ling. There is no occasion to suffer them to run inconve- 
niently tall: tall sticks are expensive, and th«^ is more 
trouble in gathering — about three or four feet high answers 
very well. 

325. Plant out cabbages and lettuces ; and keep your seed 
beds properly thinned. Indeed this business should be carried 
on all the year round. If you wish to make the best of your 
room, have always a supply of plants to stick in any spare 
piece of groimd— even when you cut every oth^ cabbage in a 
row, you may dig and even the ground, and put another plant 
in. Much may be done by management and contrivance. 

326. Cucumbers may be sowed in the natural ground; 
choose a warm border, and very rich ground ; shelter them at 
night, with a large garden pot, placing a bit of slate, or some 
such thing over the hole ; or an oiled paper frame ; or con- 
trive something that will answer the purpose. 

327. Sow a good crop of celery now, for auMimn and win- 
ter ; keep it watered in dry weather. 

328. Prick out borecole, brocoli, savoys, &c. from seed 
beds ; sow parsley ; tie up seed plants, especially of leeks and 

329. Plant out the young shoots forming at the head of the 
tree leek. See paragraph 417. 

330. Vines now require some attention in regulating tlie 
growth of their shoots ; removing such as are ill placed ; bat 
carefully retaining those that are strong, well placed, and fur- 
nished with fruit The fruit of next year will be promoted by 
your now pinching off the curUng tendrils as they appear; 
excepting the one at the tip of the branch. 

^^. In your flower beds it ^vill be necessary to thin au. 
nuals commg up too thickly. Towards the latter end of the 


month China asters, French and African marigolds, and 
dahliahs, raised under glasses, may be pricked out, and %eU 
watered. Early floiwering bulbs, as snov-drops, crocuses, daL 
fodils, &c. when the leaves decay, may be taken up, and 
boused for planting again in autumn. This need not be doue 
above once in three years, unless you want to part the roots 
for sale, or for planting elsewhere. 

332. Anemones and ranunculus may be taken up after 
flowering. Ranunculus will not stand the winter in the ground, 
but in a warm and dry situation anemones will, and flower all 
the stronger another year. 

333. Sweet peas, convolvulus, and other climbing plants, 
will require sticks. 


334. The principal work now is weeding, hoeing, thinning, 
watering, pricking out, and transplanting; choosing for the 
latter showery weather ; or if that does not occur, supplying 
the deficiency by watering and shading : but dry weather is 
the best for hoeing. 

335. Several early crops will be coming off this month, and 
the ground should be prepared for sowing or planting in sue 

336. Turnips should now be sown for a full crop ; also tur- 
nip radishes. 

337. If you choose to sow beans or peas for a late crop, 
they should be soaked in water a few hours, if the weather is 

338. Red beets, thin to a foot distance. Cape brocoli 
borecole, savoys, Brussels sprouts, for winter use, should now 
be planted out. Also sow celery seed, to plant out in autumn, 
for spring crops. 

339. Plant out celery in trenches for whitening ; dig the 
trenches a yard asunder, nine or ten inches wide, six or eight 
inches deep; dig in some manure in each trench; make all 
smooth and even ; plant a row of celery in each ; and keep it 
well waterec^ 

340. Sow principal crops of endive. Gather herbs for dry- 
ing. Transplant leeks, trim the long stringy roots, and place 
them at from six to nine inches apart; leeks make a very pretty 
bordering, and so take scarcely any room. Thin lettuce to a 
foot asunder ; plant out a good crop to the same distance, and 
well water. Sow some more lettuce seeds for a succession. 

341. Cucumbers will now require plenty of air and water 
and shading from the heat of the sun ; the glasses had bette 


ItiU be kept over them at night, unless the weather diouhi bt 
very warm mid settled. Wh^ the plants grow iargt^, and mi: 
over a considerable surface of ground, it is a goo<l way to 
spread some clean dry straw or reeds for them to run upon. 

342. If onion crops have failed, they may be replaced the 
beginning of this month, by procuring from some neighbour 
who is thinning his bed, a quantity of strongish plants of 
young onions, and preparing beds of rich, well dunged ground, 
in which plant them, in roots, five or six, by three or four 
inches apart. Insert the root part only, a moderate depth, and 
keep them well watered. 

343. Hoe and eaith cauliflowers ; give water in dry weather; 
and as the young heads appear, turn down some of the leaves^ 
to defend from sun and rain. 

344. This is the time for budding or inoculating apricots, 
peaches, nectarines, cheiries, plums, &c. 

346. You may now begin to pipe or lay pinks, carnations^ 
double sweet.wiliiams, young shoots of curious roses, and ever^ 
greens. This is also the best time for propagating wall flowers^ 
or waniors. Hyacinth bulbs should be taken up. Stock giL 
liflowers to be planted out, and more sowed. 

346. Any flower seeds that are ripe, gather in dry weather. 
If geraniums and myrtles are put in the ground, for three or 
four months, they will grow much more vigorous. Any that 
are tendei', may be plunged in the pots. 


347. Earth up celery as required — in doing tljis, be careful 
not to bury the hearts of the plants, by raking down too much 
earth at once. More celeiy should be planted out; and to 
make the best of the ground, cabbages, colewoits, and savoy s» 
may be planted between rows of beans, which will soon come 
off^; and endive and lettuce between celery trenches. 

348. Plant out full crops of brocoli, both purple and whiten- 
in rich ground ; also cauliflowers for the Michaelmas crop in 
October and November. 

349. Trim box, yew, and laurel. 

350. Sow lettuce, radishes, black Spanish radisnes, [mckly 
fpinac^h, and Welsh onions. Sow early Russian cabbage seed 
for spring — ^this sort is not apt to run, and if brought pretty 
f.^rward before Christmas, will aflbrd fine young cabbages in 
March and April. Some people sow the common onion now, 
for next year's crop ; I never tried it, so caimot say whether il 
is a good way or not. 

361 Cucumben will want plentiful watering now, every 


4ay or tmo, in a morning or afternoon ; they need no longer 
be covered at night and the frame or glasses may be raised 
op with bricks at the comers, to give the plants free scope for 

352. Dig up the ground . as fast as it is cleared ; and dung 
such as rei|uires it, for autumn and winter crops. 

353. Plant out lettuce and well water^ ana thin tlioee that 
are to remain where sowed. Leave some best full-grown 
plants^ such as acquire a full cabbaged growth, befoi'e they 
run up to stalk ; otherwise the seed is not to be depended ou 
to produce good full plants in return. (Observe this,) 

354. Sow French turnips — ^the best for broth. 

355. Finish thinning all carrot, parsnip, and onion beds. 
Water regularly in dry hot weather ; and be sure to destroy 
all weeds, before they come into flower ; for the seeds soon 
succeed the flower; and you will have plenty next year, with- 
out allowing them to scatter. 

356. Watch all seeds as they ripen, and gather them in in 
dry weather. Still trim and train vines, and tliin the leaves 
over the fruit ; but do not leave it bare. Gather walnuts for 
mckling and preserving ; — and fruit in general as it ripens. 
Early potatoes will now be in perfection. 

357. Part the roots of auriculas and polyanthuses; and 
|M'ick out seedlings. 

358. Take up bulbs, and separate the off sets. Tulips may 
be kept out of the ground till November ; but all lilies, mar. 
tagons, &c. should be replanted as soon as possible. 

359. Tie up carnations neatly. Hang a lobster claw, or 
bowl of a tobacco pipe on the top of the stick, and clear it 
every morning of the earwigs that have taken shelter tliere in 
the night. They are very destructive to carnations. 

36 J. Heartsease or pansy ; propagate good sorts by cut. 
tings and offsets, well watered. 

361 Sow mignionette for late flowering, or for keeping 
tlu'ough the winter 


362. Earth up celery, peas, beans, &c. Prick out young 
plants, such as brocoli, savoys, &c. if not done last month. 

363. Sow cabbage seed for a full crop of young plants to 
stand the winter, and for early and first general crops, next sum. 
mer, any or all of the following sorts : — Eaily York, sugar- 
loaf, Battezvea. Deptford, Antwerp, lai^ge late sorts, and re<( 
cabbage. Obscr\'e4 the time for sowing, is from the 3(1 to thf 


lOth of this month, neither earlier or later : both that the 
plants may not run in the ^ring, and yet acquire proper 
strength to stand the winter. Clear asparagus beds of weeds; 
but suffer the asparagus to run to stalk and seed. Water cu. 
cumbers every day in dry weather. Pickling cucumbers may 
be gathered. 

364. Plant out endive in fuU crops, for autumn and winter; 
and whiten such as is full grown, by laying on it tiles or 

365. Take upshalots and garlic as the leaves wither. Onions 
arrived to full growth, and the stalks and leaves withering, 
may now be taken up, spread to dry and harden, and then 
housed. They keep much best roped, and hung up ; but be 
sure to save some for duck onions, see paragraph 418. Small 
button onions, use for pickling. 

366. Throughout this month, lettuce seed of any sort may 
be sown for autumn, winter, 'and spring. There is no s<^ 
stands the winter better than the brown, or Bath ooss. The 
latter, in particular, grows very large ; and if tied up a few 
days before using, becomes equal to the white coss; i^hich 
every body knows is the nicest of all lettuce, but the most un. 
certain, and apt to run. 

367. Nasturtiums, kidney beans, radish pods, &c. for pick- 
ung, should be gathered as they advance to a proper size ; if 
suffered to remain too long, they become har^ and unsaleable. 

368. Parsley may be sowed early in this month if required ; 
also short top, salmon, and turnip radishes. Sow spinach; 
the prickly seed and the round seed answer very well mixed 
to<^ether. When the leaves are an inch or more in breadth, 
thin the bed, and clear it well from weeds. You may gather 
in October and November ; but the chief of the crop will come 
in in spring. If you choose you may thinly scatter in your 
winter spinach bed, a little seed of green cabbage lettuce, to 
cut in winter, or for early spring salads. 

369. Be attentive to gather in seeds as they ripen ; and to 
sow, and prick out, as occasion requires, in cabbages, cole, 
worts, cauliflowers, &c. Unbind buds that have taken on 
inoculated trees. Pinch off shoots that appear below buds or 
grafts. Trim and train wall trees. 

370. Plant cuttings of laurel and other evergreens in a 
Rhady border. Plant out Brompton and queen stocks;, where 
they are to remain. Auriculas in pots should be parted, and 
fresh potted in rich mould, well watered, and placed in a shady 
border. Early flowering perennials, now past, may be cut 


down, as tliey present a littering appearance ; and those ad. 
▼aacing for late flowering should be neatly tied up, and sup* 
ported with sticks. 

371. Lilies, after iiow^ing, may be parted or removed. 

372. Sow ten-weeks and mignionette in pots for winter. 


373. Still sow, (if required,) spinach, vurnips, Welch onioni^ 
and radishes. Prepare ground for planting. Finish clipping 
evei-greeus. Sow a little carrot seed ; if it lives it will come 
in early. Parsnip seed sowed now, answers very well. 

374. Cauliflowers, of August sowing, for next year's early 
and main crops, should now be pricked out into beds of rich 
earth, about Uiree inches asunder. 

375. Attend to thinning, pricking out, 6na] planting, earth. 
:ng, and hoeing, as required in cabbages, celery, lettuce, tur* 
nips, endive, &c. Weeding is always required, if you would 
have a garden neat or profitable. 

376. If you have any late cucumber plants, they will now 
Inquire night covering. Geraniums and myrtles should be 
taken out of the ground, and taken in doors at night if the 
weather is cold. 

377. Plant out the last crop of leeks^ early in this mouth, 
and hoe Khers. 

378. Parsnips and potatoes may now be taken up for use 
as wanted, but not wholly for keeping ; they will improve by 
remaining in the ground at least another month. Slips of 
sage, mint, thyme, and other herbs, may now be planted out. 

379. Gather seeds as ripe. Water, (as required,) all newly 
pricked-out small plants. 

380. Gather fruit as it ripens, for use or store. Most kinds 
of fruit may be preserved a considerable time on the tree by 
the use of nets, wool, or crape. Netting is a pretty amuse, 
ment for winter evenings ; and if a net or two should enable 
you to sell at a high price, late cherries, currants, peaches, 
nectarines, or grapes, it will be pleasantly paid for. 

381. Pink ana carnation-layers or partings, well rooted, 
filiould now be planted out for flowering next spring. 

382. Plant cuttings of chrysanthemums; &ey will strike 
and remain in open ground all the winter ; or you may plant 
many together in large pots for sheltering in severe weather : 
give them frequent watering. 

383. Plant thrift and box edgings. Plant suckers of roftes^ 
lilacs, gooseberries, currants, raspberries, &c. and cuKings o( 
honey-suckles, gooseberries, and currants. 



384. In this month, all sowing and planting should be 
finished for this year ; as many crops are now cleared oif^ the 
flTOund should be filled up for winter to the best advantage. 
Rand weed or hoe between the various advancing crops. At 
tlie end of this month, asparagus beds may be dressed for the 
winter, by cutting down the stalks now done growth; hoe off 
•11 weeds into the alleys, which then mark out the proper 
tvidth, dig each alley along regularly between the beds, bury 
the weeds in the bottom, and spread a good portion of the 
earth evenly oyer each bed. Manure will be required every 
two or three years, and this is the season for applying it. Use 
principally rotted dung; after clearing away the stalks and 
weeds as above, forking it carefully into the beds, and dig- 
glnir it into the alleys^ then spreading some of the earth 
of tne alleys regularly over the beds as you advance iu the 

385. At the latter end of this month beg^n using the tops of 
borecole, Scotch kale, Brussels sprouts, &c. ; which, early in 
spring, will produce a plentiful crop of fine sprouts. 

386. The main crop of carrots may be dug up at the end of 
this month ; cut off the tops close, and preserve the roots in 
dry sand, or sandy e^lth for winter use. Jerusalem artichokes 
also, are now of full growth, to dig up for use as wauted, or 
take up a quantity to house for winter. 

387. Carefully hand weed, but do not thin, your youi^ 
ifinter crop of onions. 

388. Red cabbage and red beet root are now fit fcr ua^ 
Savoys will also be just coming in. Those greens on which 
vou depend much for uprouts, be sure you gather the heads 
m proper time, as that strengthens the plant for sprouting. 

389. Apples and pears, now becoming ripe, should be caie- 
fully gathered with the hand : if shaken down and bruised, 
thev will not keep. The best way of keeping them is on 
tlielves, covered with clean dry straw. 

390. Walnuts and chesnuts, when fully ripe, which may be 
known by the outer husk opening gradually, should be ga. 

391. Honeysuckles, roses, and other flowering shrubs, may 
now be pruned. Stick the young shoots of honeysuckle, or ot 
Cliina rose, in the ground, if you want increase, either for 
yourself, your friends, or for sale. They should have light rich 
earth, a warm situation, and good watering; and they will 
ftrike freely. If you have i^ spare glass, or oiled light, it may 
bt) as well to shelter them in severe weather. 


d92. GivTant and gooseberry cattings, and raspberry shoots, 
may now be planted. Raspbeiries now require pruning ; tliey 
are very wild ugly plants if neglected ; but very m at and pro. 
ductive if attendiKl to — the same stem never bears two years ; but 
after bearing dies, and should be cut away close to the grouud. 
There will probably be seven or eight new shoots ; these must 
not all remain ; they would only encumber one anoUier^ and 
hinder the bearing ; three good strong shoots are enough to 
leave ; if not strong, four, or at most five. If you want to in. 
crease your stock, carefully take up the whole bunch, and se- 
parate the roots. If otlierwise, cut all shoots, mure than the 
number above directed, close to the ground ; tie what are leit 
together, and shorten them, taking off about a quarter of the 
whole length, more or less according to the height of them. 
Dig away all straggling suckei's, and clean and dij( neatly 
between the plants thus dressed. 


393. Sowing is only required in peas, beans, and small 
salad ; but these require a very warm aspect ; the small salad, 
band-glasses. And after all your trouble and expense, it is 
ten to one if they succeed. For my part, I don't think them 
worth the trial in a cottage garden, where time and room aie 
so valuable. 

394. If the weather continues mild, y^u may plaiit out, as 
occasion requires, cabbages, lettuce, endive, &c. 

395. Clear all beds from weeds, and hoe and loosen the 
surface of the earth round each plant ; this will encourage their 
growth, and at the same time destroy slugs, and other destruc- 
tive vermin. The milder the season is, the more these crea- 
tures abound. They may be destroyed by scattering Iresh 
lime over the beds which they infest. 

396. Earth up celery, and hoe earth to the stems of bro- 
coli, &c. 

397. Plant garlic and shalots — now or in February. 

398. Cut down old rank parsley, if any remain, tlmt it may 
shoot out nfr sh. 

399. Savoys are now in full perfection. 

400. Any vacant ground, (but a cottager can seldom afford 
any,) should be dug in trenches two feet wide, and one or two 
spades deep, burying all the old leaves and other rubbish, and 
laying the earth of each trench in a rough ridge, to improve 
by the weather. 

401. If any potatoes remain out, they should now be got in. 

402. Jerusalem artichokes and horse-xadish, a portion of 


each, should be got in, and laid up iu saiid, lest a bard froti 
should preveut their being duy: up afterwards. Ail rood 
riiould be clean and dry before they are laid up ; and should 
be oilen looked at and turned^ and any that are decayed be 

403. Almost any sort of trees may be transplanted through 
tfiis and the three foUowincc months, choosing open weather. 

404. The first sharp frost will cut ofiT all annuals; let them 
be pulled up. Cui up likewise the dead stalks of perennials, 
and dig them all into the trenches with the manure. 

406. Cover the roots of newly-planted trees, and tender 
flowere, iiith long manure, straw, or saw-diist. 

406. Cuttings of common trees, such as willows, popIar% 
privet, &c. will do very well now, or any time before they be- 
gin to shoot again. 

407. Plant tulip bulbs about the 9th or lOth of November; 
and most others about the same time. 


408. This month is almost a repetition of the last ; all fruit 
trees may now be pruned, and shrubs tnnuned, that are strag. 
gling beyond their bounds, 

409. If you choose to venture early crops of peas and 
beans, it may yet be done. Hoe and earth between plants. 

410. If you have any cauliflower or lettuce under glasse-^, 
give them air freely in mild weather ; but keep the glasses 
down at night, and in frost, snow, or much rain ; pick off all 
decayed leaves ; stir the earth gently, and search for slugs. 

411. Earth up celery in dry open weather ; and whiten en- 
dive by tying up, or laying tiles on it. 

412. Keep dij^ging and trenching in open weather, and the 
ground will thus be improved, and when wanted for use, re- 
quires no farther trouble than merely to level down the ridges. 

413. Dry frosty weather is the time for bringing in manure, 
or, which is the same thing, moving it from the heap to tlie 

414. Plant winter aconite in beds and borders. Anemones 
und ranunculus may be planted now — but it is a hazard — ^if 
they survive the whiter, they will flower early and handsome ; 
but they may be lost. 

415. Auriculas and carnations in pots must be defended 
from severe frost, snow, or great rains. Potted plants in doora 
will also require care and attention. 

416. Ail shrubs may be moved; and, between all sbnilMi 
and in flower beds, the ground &liould be dug, raked, leaves 


1«uried, and all kept clean and neat through the winter, and 
the ground left free for the beautiful young heads of flowen 
U) show themselves as spring comes on, 



417. The tree onion is a very useful plant, though not Teiy 
generally known ; so also is the tree leek. In the same manner 
as the common onion or leek forms a seed pod at top, they 
form a cluster of young bi^ibs or roots. Those of the onion 
are much esteemed for pio^Jing and for sauce ; and will fetch 
a higher price in the mai ket than the common pickling onions ; 
they also come in earlier in the season. The top produce of 
the leek tree is only used for propagating a future crop ; about 
the latter end of May, as they sulvance, you may begin to 
draw them off, and plant them either in beds or borders. As 
you remove some, the others will advance ; and you may go 
on for several weeks, planting out, until your garden is su^- 
dently stocked ; — they will require no farther attention ; and 
from March to June the following year (just the time when 
onions are scarce) will afford you fine white heads, fit for 
soup^ sauce, or any other purpose of onions. 1 n case of a 
failure of the onion crop, these leeks are particularly valuable. 

418. Duck onions, — Why they are so called, I do not know, 
unless it be that they come in just in time for seasoning young 
ducks, when old onions are past, and the young ones scarcely 
come in. If you wish to have these, you will save a few small, 
firm, round onions from your picklers ; and in February plant 
them out in rich earth, about four inches apart ; as fast as 
they spring up, nip off the young shoots, and instead of run. 
ning to escal lions, the roots will grow large and round, like 
the best Michaelmas onions. They will be fit for use from 
May to July. 

419. Radishes. -^li you wish them to grow auickly and 
straight, and eat tender, let tliem be well watei'ed every day, 
when the sun is on them. 

420. Cabbage. — The best sorts of cabbage for a cottage gar- 
den are early and late Yorks, early and late sugar-loaf^ early 
Russian and Battersea. The best winter greens are savoys, 
Brussels sprout, Scotch kale, and ragged robin. These will 
keep up a plentiful supply from November till May. 

421. Saving Seeds, — It is a great matter to have good pure 
aeeds, free from any mixture ; without this you will never hava 
good profitable plants. This cannot be obtained, if plar ts of 
different kinds are allowed to stand for seed near each other. 


In order to secure it, the best plan is for several coUagers to 
Igree among themselves, and each raise one kind of cabbage^ 
and one kind of lettuce seed only. His crop will be am(ly 
sufficient to supply his neighbours, and from them he may re- 
ceive in return, sufficient for his purpose of other sorts. 

422. Potatoes. — " No vegetable answers better to the cot 
f^ager than good potatoes : one great reason why people have 
bad potatoes, is, because they take their sets from the small 
potatoes, thinking they will do as well to set ; but to have a 
fine crop of potatoes, you should always take the eye from the 
middle of the best and finest potatoes. The eyes at the top of 
the potatoes are the next best ; the remainder of the potatoe 
will do to dress as well as any other. If your potatoes sprout 
when laid up for the winter, which they should not do, the 
shoots, if strong, will make good plants. 

423. " With respect to laying up potatoes, the following 
method has been found to answer well : — As early in October 
as they are ripe, dig them up as dry as possible, and lay them 
in a heap, ridged up and covered with straw ; cover tlie straw 
with earth, thatch it with stubble or straw, and then again 
cover it with earth. In March or April, or soon afler the first 
warm spring weatlier, take them out ; and, if properly done, 
they will not have sprouted or cankered. 

424. " The following are good sorts of potatoes : — for Jirst 
early. Fox's seedlings, and Early Manly ; lor second early, 
Nonsuch and Early Champion, particularly the last. Per- 
haps the best sort of all is a new one, called the Bread-fruit 
potatoe, with which Heligoland beans may be profitably cul. 
tivated, by sowing them in the channels ^ith the potatoes: 
they ripen at the same time, without injuring the crop of pota. 
toes. This intermediate cropping, will often be found profit, 
able, and it admits of the spaces between being dug and ma. 
nured, if necessary ; thus, if Windsor peas and beans are sown 
at five feet distance in the rows, potatoes may be planted be- 
tween them, which will fill the ground when the peas and 
beans are over. If early York and Battersea caobage is 
planted thus, two rows at eighteen inches distance, and a 
space of three feet lefl between those and the next two, any 
spring crops, as leeks, kidney-beans, lettuces, or peas, may be 
put between them. While potatoe plants are small, any quick 
erowing crop may be planted in the spaces they will occupy 
when full grown. Early potatoes should be planted in tiie 
second or third week of March ; some late potatoes should 
be planted the same time as the early ones« and the rest iff 


425. Hot beds, — For this purpose fresh horse stable-dung* 
is the best ; lay the long and short warm moist litter, forking 
it up in a heap to mix all parts equally ; let it remain a week 
or a fortnight, turning it over. After this, dig a square pit to 
the size required, and about 18 inches or two feet deep. Then 
lay in dung, from two feet and a half to thi'ee and a half in 
depth, and place the frame on. After some days, earth the 
bed within tJie frame, with light, rich, dry mould, to the depth 
of six or eight inches ; in which, when become of a moderate 
lively heat, sow or plant as required. Some persons make hot 
beds as early as January or February, for raising many early 
crops ; but as your purpose probably is only to raise cucum. 
bers, and forward a few other things, as opportunity offers; for 
these purposes, the end of March or beginning of April, wil 
be quite soon enough. 

426. •Asparagus beds, — To these allot a space of the best 
mellow ground, well dunged several inches thick, ard trenched 
in a spade deep. Let each bed be four feet and u half wide, 
in which plant young plants raised last year, or not exceeding 
two years at most, four rows lengthways in each bed, in drills 
or small narrow trenches five or six inches deep, cut out with 
a spade, formmg thereby one side of each drill upright; so 
Betting in the plants against the upright side, a foot asunder, 
with the crown of the roots about two inches below the sur- 
face, covering in each drill as planted, equally with the earth ; 
and then rake the surface of the beds lightly over. 1 hey will 
produce in three years ; not earlier, but the same plants will 
yield many years in succession, from the end of April to the 
beginning of July. They should then be permitted to shoot 
up to stalk till the end of autumn ; when the stalks should be 
cut down and the beds cleared and landed up. Between the 
beds should be alleys of a foot or eighteen inches wide. When 
the autumn dressing is to be performed, cut down the stalks, 
and hoe off all weeds into the alleys, which then mark out the 
proper width ; and digging each alley along regularly, bury 
the weeds as you advance ; and at the same time spread a 
good portion of the earth evenly over the bed. Once in two 
or three years some rotten dung will be beneficial ; it should 
be laid both on the beds and alleys, forked carefully into the 

• A notionless cottager might say, I have no stable ; I keep no 
horse \ where can I get hot dung ? But liis neighbour who has a 
«pice of gumption, knows very well that any one who has a stable 
will be glad to exchange with him» hot, for rotten dung ; of which, if 
lie keeps animals, and has a tank, ue will be sure to have plenty. 


beds, and dug into the alleys, spreading some of the earth from 
the alleys over the beds, as you advance in the digging. 

427. Grafting, — Previous to grafting you must be provided 
with a proper giafting knife, a quantity of strong bass strings 
for bandage, to tie the stocks and grafts firmly together, and 
Bome well.wrought clay, to fix round over the tying, and to 
secure from air and wet. 

428. The stocks intended to be grafted must be headed 
down If for dwarf trees, walls, or espaliers, must be headed 
within ^\e or six inches of the ground; if for standards, at 
five or six feet high ; and for half standards at one, two, three, 
or four feet. 

4v9. The most common method of grafting is called Whip* 
grafting. It is performed in the following manner: — Tne 
stocks for this purpose should be small, from half an inch (or 
even less) to an inch thick. For the grafts or scions, choose 
vigorous shoots of last year's growth of a ti*ee in full bearing. 
Having headed the stock as above directed, choose a smooth 
pait, and tlien cut away the bark or rind, with part of the 
wood, in a sloping direction upwards, about an inch and a half 
or two inches in length: then, having the scions cut into 
lengths of four or ^y^ eyes in each, prepare one to fit the stock 
as above, by cutting it also a little sloping, so as exactly to 
fit the cut part of the stock, as if cut from the same place, that 
the rinds of both may nearly join in every part; then cut a 
slit or tongue about half an inch in length upwards in the 
scion, and cut a slit the same length downwards in the stock, 
to receive tlie said tongue ; in this manner ^ji the graft; into 
the stock, taking care that the rind of each may meet as ex- 
actly and evenly as possible in every part. Having thus fixed 
the graft, let it be immediately tied with a string of soft bass, 
bringing it in a neat manner several times round the gi^ft and 
stock, taking care not to displace the graft from its due po- 
sition. Let the bandage be neatly tied, and immediately 
cover the place with some grafting clay, observing to bring 
the clay an inch above the top of the stock, and rather below 
the bottom of the graft; leaving a due thickness on every 
side of the graft and stock, making it into a roundish oval 
form, and taking care to close it well in every part, so that no 
wet, wind, or sun can enter. The grafts must now and then 
be examined, to see if the clay any where falls . off or cracks ; 
if it does so, it must be renewed with fresh clay. By tlie lat- 
ter end of May or beginning of June, the grafts and stocks 
will be firmly united. The clay may then be carefully re- 
moved, and the bandages loosened a little. 


430. ClefUgraftmg, is so called because the stock is cleft 
and the graft put into it in the foUowing manner : — The stock 
^ould be from one inch to two inches, or rather more, m 
thickness. With a strong knife cut down the head of the 
Stock very smooth and fiat ; then cut away part of the stock, 
about an inch and a half, in a sloping manner upwards, so that 
the top of the stock shall be reduced to about half an inch in 
breadth. This done, prepare your scion or grail. Let it be 
eight or ten inches long, and having several buds or eyes ; 
then with a sharp knife pare away the bark and some of the 
wood at the lower end of the graft in a sloping manner, about 
an inch and a half or two inches in length. Do this on two 
sides, so bringing the graft into a wedge>like shape, but let 
one side of it, which is to be placed outwards on the stock, be 
left double the thickness of the other side, and with the rind 
continued thereon. The graft being prepared, take your 
strong knife, and place it in the middle of the stock, cross ways 
the top of the sloped part, and with a small mallef, &c. strike 
the knife to the stock, observing to cleave it no farther than 
what is necessary to admit the graft readily ; then place the 
knife, or some small instrument, a little into the cleft, at 
the sloped part of the stock, to keep it open for the reception 
of the graft, which then directly introduce into the cleft on the 
upright side of the stock, at the back of the slope, inserting it 
with great exactness, as far as it is cut, with the thickest edge 
outwai'ds, and so that the rind may meet exactly every way 
with the rind of the stock. Tlie graft being placed, then remove 
the knife >r wedge, taking care not to displace the graft ; thi« 
done, let it be tied and well clayed in the manner directed a« 
above, in the work of whip or tongue grafting. 

431. Or if, in this cleft-grafting, you choose to put in two 
grafts, it may be performed on large stocks, which must be 
twice cleft, the clefts parallel to each other, and so fix the 
grafts in the stock, as above. 

432. This kind of grafting may likewise be performed on 
the branches of trees that already bear fruit, if you desire to 
change the sorts. 

433. Croum^grafting is so called, as sometimes three, 
ibur, or more grafts are inserted round the crown of the 
stock, in a circular order, introduced betwixt the bark aiid 
the wood. 

434. This way of grafting is commonly practised upon 
such stocks as are too lai^ge and stubborn to cleave, end iji 
•ften performed upon the branches of apple and pear treea^ 



&c. that already bear fruit, yiheu it is intended to change the 
, sorts, or to renew the tree with fresh beahng wood. 

435. The manner of doing this sort of grafting is as foL 
lows : — First, to cut off the head of the tree or stock Jevel, of 
of any particular branch of a tree which you intend to graft, 
and pare the top perfectly smooth ; then prepare your grafts^ 
which is done by cutting one side flat and a Httle sloping; 
about two inches in length, making a kind of shoulder rt the 
top of the cut, to rest on the head of the stock ; and pare off 
only a little of the bark toward each edge of the other side c 
the graft; then prepare to insert it, which, in this order o# 
grafting, must be effected by introducing the cut part down 
betwixt the bark and wood of the stock ; first slitting the bark 
or rind from the top downwards, clean through to tlie firm 
wood, two inches or two inches and a half in length ; and 
having a small thin wedge of iron or wood, and opening the 
rind of the stock a little at the top of the slit, introduce the 
wedge gently down betwixt the wood and rind, far enough lo 
make way for admitting the graft; then drawing out the 
wedge, insert the graft in that part with the cut sloped sicfe 
towards and close to the wood of the stock aforesaid, slipping 
it neatly down the length of its cut part, resting the shoulder 
thereof, prepared as above, upon the top of the stock ; and in 
this manner you may put four, five, or more grafts, as may 
seem convenient, upon each stock, and bind them round with 
strong bass. 

436. When the grafts are all thus fixed, you must then imme- 
diately apply a good quantity of well-wrought clay, bringing 
it close about the stock and grafts, observing to raise it al 
least an inch above the top of tlie stock, in a rounding man. 
ner, so as to throw the wet quickly off, and prevent it lodging 
or getting into the work ; which would ruin all. 

437. These trees which are grafted this way, generally suc- 
ceed prosperously ; but for the first year or two after grafting, 
the grafts being liable to be blown out of the stock by violent 
winds, this must be remedied by tying some firm sticks to tlie 
body of the stock or branch that is grafted, and the grafts 
tied to the sticks 

438. The best time for performing this kind of graftiiKl^is 
in the last week in March, or the first week in April ; for then 
the sap will begin to be more in motion, which renders the 
bark of the stock much easier to be separated from the wood, 
lo admit the graft. 

' 439. Another way of grafting, occasionally practised, itf 


called Inarching t or Grafting by Avproack : but It in not 
eligible for any general practice, only chiefly for particular 
trees as do not propagate freely by any other method; and 
for some occasions of curiosity. 

440. The stocks employed for the purpose of grafting are 
raised either from seeds^ as the pips of apples or pears, stones 
of plums, &c. ; or, from suckers shooting round an old tree. 
The best sorts of apples to graft from, are the Woodstock (or 
Blenheim) orange, Ribstone pippin, pearmain, royal russet, 
nonpareil, and margill. 

441. Of pears, the jargonelle, summer bergamot, swan't 
egg, buerre, and cressans. 

442. Let your stocks be raised from large and late ripening 
fruit. The fruit from grafts on such stocks, will be found 
much larger and richer in flavour, though later in ripening, 
than when the grafts are set on stocks from early ripening 

443. In some few sorts, as the codliu, nurse-garden or 
creeper, and hawthorn-dean, suckers will bear without graft- 
ing. They will also strike freely from cuttings ; so will the 
Woodstock-orange, one of the finest, most sm*e bearing, and 
lon^ keeping of apples now grown. 

444. Budding or Inoculating is performing in the following 
manner : — Mind that the cuttings, from which the buds are to 
be taken, be cut from fruitful healthy trees, and such as shoot 
moderately free. 

445. Plums should be budded upon plum stocks, raised 
from the stones or suckers. Pears succeed best when budded 
upon pear and quince stocks, raised by sowing the kernels; 
but the quince stocks are also raised from cuttings, or by layeiii 
or suckers from the roots of the trees. 

446. The quince is the proper stock whereon to bud such 
pears as are intended to be dwarfs for walls or espaliers ; and 
those for full standards should be budded on pear stocks, or 
upon quince stocks for small standards, and on which they 
vill generally bear sooner. 

447. In performing the operation of budding fruit trees 
regard must be had whether the tree is intended to be a dwarf 
for the wall or espalier, or for a standard ; and must be ac. 
cordingly performed lower or higher in the stock ; but remem. 
ber that the head of the stock is not now to be cut off. 

448. The manner of performing the work of budding, or 
inoculating, is this : — In the first place, be provided with a 
j>roper budding-knife, or shaq> pen-knife, with a flat ivory 
Juaft. The halt sliould be somewhat t-iper, and quite ihin at 


the end ; which knife and hafl is to be used as hereafter dSL 
rected ; and also provide some new bass mats for bandages ; 
and let this, before you use it> be soaked in water. 

449. In the next place^ you are to provide a parcel of cot. 
tings of the respective trees from which you intend to tak iie 
buds : these cuttings must be shoots of the same summer's 
growth, and must be cut from such trees as are in healtbr 
bear well, and shoot freely ; minding to choose such shoots 
as have middling strength, and are free in their growth, but 
not luxuriant 

460. Having your cuttings, knife, bass, and every thing 
ready, then proceed in the following manner: — Having re- 
course to the proper stocks for budding, the buds are to be 
inserted into the side, one on each stock, at the height before 
explained ; the heads of the stocks to remain entire for the 
present, and continued till next spring ; only, preparatory to 
the budding, to cut away now any lateral shoots from the 
stock, near where the bud is to be inserted : then, in a smooth 
part of the side of the stock, isiith the above-mentioned knif*^, 
make a cross cut into the rind or bark quite to tlie firm wood; 
then from the middle of the cross cut, let another be made 
downwards, about an inch and a half or two inches in lengthy 
so that the two cuts together form a T, in which insert the 

451. Then get one of your cuttings or shoots, and take off 
the bud in this manner : — You are to begin toward the lower, 
or biggest end of the shoot ; and in the first place, cut off all 
the leaves, but observing to leave part of the foot-stalk of 
each remaining ; then, about an inch below the lower bud, or 
eye, make a cross cut in the shoot, almost half way through, 
with the knife slanting upward, and with a clean cut, bring it 
out about half an inch above the eye or bud, detaching the 
bud with part of the bark and wood thereto. Then immedi. 
ately let that part of the wood which was taken off with the 
bud be separated from the bark in which is contained the 
bud; and this is readily done with your knife, placing the 
point of it between the bark and wood at one end, and so pull 
off the woody part, which will readily part from the bark; 
then quickly examine the inside to see if the internal eye of 
the bud be left ; for if there appears a small hole, the eye is 
gone with the wood, and is therefore useless : take another ) 
but if there be no hole, the bud is good, and is to be inune- 
diately inserted in the stock ; observing for the reception of 
the bud, to raise gently with the hafl of your knife the l>afk 
of the stock on each side of the perpendicular slit, from tlM 


cross cut above, and directly introduce the bud with the barlu 
side outward, inserting it gently in between the baik and the 
wood, placing it as smooth as possible, witli the eye of the 
bud in the middle, and with its central points upwards; ob- 
serving, if the bud be too long for the incision in the stock, 
shorten it accordingly, when inserted, by a clean cut of the 
knife, so as to make it slip in readily, and lie perfectly ciose 
in every part. 

452. Having thus fixed the bud, let the stock in that part 
be immediately bound round with a string of new bass mat, 
beginning a little below the cut, and proceeding upwards, 
drawing it closely round to about an inch above the top of 
the slit; but be sure to miss the eye of the bud, bringing the 
tyin^ close to it below and above, only just leaving the eye of 
the Dud open ; tying the bandage close and neatly : and this 
finishes the work for the present. 

453. In three weeks or a month after the inoculation is per. 
formed, the buds will have united with the stock, which is 
discoverable by the bud appealing plump; and those that 
have not taken will appear black and decayed : therefore let 
the bandages of those which have taken be loosened ; and 
this is done in order to give free course to the sap, that the 
bud, according as it swells, may not be pinched; for weie the 
bandages suffered to remain as first tied, they would cramp 
the buds, and spoil them. To prevent this, it would be most 
advisable to loosen them all in about three weeks, or, at far. 
thest, a month after budding ; which concludes the work till 
next March ; as until which time the bud remains dormant^ 
then it shoots forth with vigour. 

454. At that time, that is, the beginning of March, you are 
to observe, that as the heads of the stocks are still remaining, 
they must then be cut down near the place of inoculation, 
that the whole nourishment may go to that part, for the 
growth of the advancing bud shoot to form the future tree ; 
therefore, observing to cut down or head each stock either 
about a hand's breadth above the insertion of the bud ; and 
this part of the^ stock left above, may remain till next spring ; 
and will serve* whereto to tie for support, the main shoot, 
which the bud of inoculation makes the first sunmier ; or you 
may head the siock down at once almost close near the bud, 
or but a little above, cutting behind it in a slanting manner 

455. The VMMti general season to bud or inoculate h 
from about the beginning and middle of June, till near the 


same time in August, according to the forwardness m growth 
of the shoots of the different troes you would bud from. 

456. Plum, apricots, peaches, and nectarines are tlius pro. 
pagated. Plums may be budded on sloes or plum suckers; 
apricots on their own or plum suckers; peaches and necta. 
fines on almond stocks. 

457. Laying, — Figs, vines, filberts, and mulberries, are thus 
propagated. Also some favourite evergreens and flowering 
shrubs, as laurustinus, arbutus, pyracantlia, and others. The 
method of performing this, is, by taking a young branch, m;tk. 
ing a slit in the bark, on the under side, just at an eye, and at 
such a distance from the stem, as will allow of its being forked 
down some inches below the surface of tlie ground ; from tliis 
slit roots will strike, and the following season, if required, the 
laid plants may be separated from the parent stem and re* 
moved. Exactly in the same manner carnations are propa. 
gated ; and choice sorts of sweet-william, and others. 

458. To strike PinA**.— The best time of doing this, is when 
the old plants are in flower ; and if you have a hand glass or 
oiled light, the following is the best way of doing it : Into the 
space of earth you intend to occupy, dig an equal quantity of 
sand, and water it till it is about the consistence of stiff batter; 
then ^x your glass on, to make a mark exactly to the extent 
of your room ; with a small dibber make holes over this square, 
at the distance of an inch from each other, have ready your 
slips, pulled from different sorts of pinks, (they might as well 
be good sorts as bad ones,) mule pinks, &c. Let them be 
neatly trimmed; the shabby outside leaves picked off, and 
the tips of the other leaves clipped ; plant one in each of the 
holeSy pressing the mould to it with your fingers ; then fix your 
glass firmly on, and plaster some wet mould round the edge 
of it, so that no air may get in. The glass may be shaded a 
little in the intense heat of the sun, but do not lift up the 
glass until you perceive that the pinks have stiiick and are 
growing; it may then be lifted up; the space weeded and 
watered, and eartli loosened ; air freely admitted ; and in a 
few more days the glass need not be returned. These should 
be planted out in autumn in borders for flowering in the foL 
lowing spring. 

459. Larkspurs. — To have this beautiful flower in perfec 
tion, observe three things. First, The seed should lie a long 
time in the ground; the best time for sowing it, is about th* 
turn of the year, or the first mild weather that presents aftei, 
wards. Secondly, The finest larkspurs grow in an onion bed; 


if not too tliick, they will not injure the crop of onioDS, 
Thirdly, They do not well bear transplanting ; they sLould b*-. 
gown where diey are to flower, and when they come in bios, 
fom, be on the watch, to pull np auT single, shajbby ones, as 
they appear. 


C H A P. X. 

Of the Management of Infants. 

460. In the management of children, attention must be 
paid to their food, sleep, clothing, cleanliness, and exercise,— 
md constant care and watchfulness will be found necessajry. 
. 461. A new-bom infant should be well washed with a soft 
sponge, warm water, and soap ; and perfectly dried with a 
soft towel. 

462. It is, at best^ a useless custom to wash the head of an 
infant with spirits. 

463. t he navel being properly secured with fine rag, a 
strip of new flannel, four or five inches deep, should be gently 
passed round the bowels. This bandage should be continued 
sevei^l months ; it is frequently left ofl^ at the end of two or 
three weeks, and the child in consequence is often seized with 
violent cold, and bowel complaints, which bring on fits and 

464. The dress of an infant should be light and moderately 
warm; all tight bandages are hurtful. It is of great conse- 
quence to keep the chest, bowels, and feet warm. 

465. Strings are often reconmiended instead of pins ; but a 
child cannot be neatly dressed so ; and it must be a careless^ 
dumsy mother indeed, who cannot pin her chlld^s clothes secure- 
ly. Where a pin is to be applied, let the nurse slip her left hand 
oetween the clothes and the child's flesh, and then turn the 
pin in and out several times, as she would in darning a stocking. 
This will answer the threefold end, of preventing the clothes 
being too tight — the child being pricked — or the pin dropping 
oat. When we hear of pins dropping into the child's food, we 
may in general conclude that they were carelessly stuck— 
very probably in the nurse's cap or side— as slatternly and 
dangerous a practice as can be imagined 


466. Half a tea spooufiill of castor oil, with a rery maaS 
quantity of soft sugar, may be givea in order to open the 
bowels ;— -this cannot be injurious, though it is not in sdl cases 

467. The breasts of infants sometimes appear swollen— and' 
it has been a too common practice of nurses to squeeze them 
in order to press out a fluid ;«-this is never necessary, and 
always injurious. These swellings generally subside in a few 
days ; if they should not, they may be bathed with warm milk 
and water ; or a little salad oil (warm) very gently rubbed in^ 
morning and evening. 

468. The first food an infant takes should be that which 
nature has provided for it— its mother's milk. It is a ground- 
less and injurious notion, that the child ought not to be per. 
mitted to suck at first, either because there is not yet a supply 
<^ milk, or because the first milk is supposed to be unwhole. 
some. The answer to both these notions, is — the child's suck- 
ing is the very way to bring the milk ; — and the first milk, so 
far fi-om being injurious, is highly medicinal ; let the child have 
plenty of that, and nothing else, and it is not likely to want 
any other medicine. If this one rule be steadily attended 
to^*-that the child is to be applied to the breast as soon as 
possible after it is bom, and applied again and again, at the 
interval of a few hours, as often as the mother's strength will 
admit, until it sucks freely,-— both mother and child will be 
spared a vast deal of unnecessary fatigue and sufifering.-^ 
But when a child is kept back a day or two from the breast, 
and supplied with other food, it then refuses to make the 
attempt at sucking, — as the breast becomes full and hard, the 
difficulty increases— perhaps suckling is even rendered impos. 
Bible ; the mother sufiers from broken breast, or milk fever,— 
and the child perhaps perishes from want of its proper nou- 
rishment. Many such instances have occurred, which might 
have been easily and altogether prevented by a timely and 
persevering application of the child to the breast. 

469. There is nothing more essential to the health and 
comfort of an infant than thorough cleanliness. All children 
should be thoroughly washed twice a day. The whole body 
ought to be washed in the morning, and the lower half at 
night ; for the first week or two the chill should be taken off 
the water ; afterwards it may, and ought to be used perfectly 
cold ; a large soft sponge is the best thing to wash a child 
with ; every morning, after it has been carefully cleaned be- 
hind the ears, in the folds of the neck, &c. let the nurse hold 
it gently inclining over the bason, and several times filling the 


spoDge, dkchnrge the water over itn head, then rub it tho. 
loughly dry, and tie on a flannel ca^ nrhile it is being dreued; 
on removing the flannel cap, let the hair be brushed, not 
combed; children thus useo, will be found unusually free 
from colds in the head, and snuffles, a distressing complaint to 
which most children are liable ; as well as from many filthy 
diseases which often begin only in the negligence of nurses. 

470. The skin of a very young infant, when wiped tho. 
roughly dry, should be dusted with hair.powder, or lapis* 
powder, or fine flour sifted through muslin; nothing wet 
i^ould be allowed to remain on. Its clothes should be en. 
tirely changed night and morning. It is impossible to wash it 
thoroughly, or dry it properly, unless it be done entirely 
naked. Few parents are so poor as not to have at least two 
sets of clothes for their child.**^ Let one set be worn for the 
day and one for the night, and on being taken off, carefully 
driod, rubbed soft where any part may have become hai*sh 
with perspiration or drivelling, and folded up. This change 
is refi-eshing and healthy, and need not occasion any addi^ 
tioual washing; the things which have been worn two days, 
will afterwards serve t^^o nights, and no cleanly person would 
wish a child to wear them longer. Linen should be most 
carefully aired, but not put on warm. Warm linen is weaken, 
ing. As early as possible children should be accustomed to 
habits of cleanliness themselves; and it is astonishing how 
soon those habits may be formed, by attention, regularity^ 
and perseverance on the psirt of the nurse. 

471. Children who are thus kept constantly clean and 
washed in plenty of cold water, will scarcely ever suffer from 
that troublesome complaint of infants, a chafing of the skin 
in the folds of the neck, armpits, and otlier parts. If how. 
ever at the time of teething a little heat and chafing should 
arise, it will easily be cured by applying tWQ or three times a 
day, a little fullers' earth, after washing the part with warm 
water. Some persons recommend thin gruel, and others 
starch for this purpose, and with some children they answer 
very well, but with others they disagree. I never knew the 
fullers' earth disagree with any child, or fail of effecting a 
cure, if at the same time proper cleanliness was attended to. 
When cleanliness has been neglected, powerful medicines will 
by no means supply the deficiency ; and I have often been 

• Those who are, may always get supplied by Lying-in charities^ 
9t Benevolent institutions, now hap])il.Y established, it may be hopedi 
within the reach of every case of real distress. 

6 3 


gn^ved when a poor woman or child has come into a druggirf^ 
•hop for * a pennyworth of powder of tutty/ or a ' pennyworth 
of precipitate powder;' the nurse who finds it necessary to 
keep such things, is almost always one who has neglected her 
own duty, and unless she returns to that^ all the medicines in 
the druggist's shop can do very little for the comfort of her 
babe, and may prove- seriously injurious, from her injudicious 
and improper application of them. I recollect a poor child 
losing its life in consequence of the mother using Tfor this 
very complanU) white precipitate instead of red. She most 
likely did not know that there were more sorts than one, so 
took which the shop.boy happened to give her, and applied it 
to the poor babe, who after a few hours died in great agonieSb 
The manner of preparing the fullers* earth for the purpose 
recommended, is by pouring on it boiling water in such quan. 
tity, that when dissolved, it is about the thickness oi Btitf 
batter ; it should be left to cool, and applied quite cold. 

472. Many children have been killed, and many more i>en. 
dered unhealthy, by the very improper custom with aome 
nurses of giving them spirits (whether in the form of gin, 
peppermint, anniseed, &c.) in their food. How such an 
unnatural notion first came into the minds of nurses is to 
be wondered at. Too often it will be found that those who 
use these things, like them themselves, and so fancy they 
must be pleasant and good for tlieir children, thoughHhe fact 
is, they are poisonous to both. The common excuse assigned 
for these practices is, ' It will comfort the child's bowels, and 
make it sleep.' But let a child be properly fed, that is, (dur- 
ing the first four months at least,) entirely upon the breast, if 
possible ; if not, only upon food of a proper kind ; sec par. 474, 
and given in proper quantity, and it will scarcely know any 
thing of wind and gripes with which some children are so 
dreadfully tormented ; its bowels will not want ' comforting ;• 
and if it is healthy and comfortable, nature will incline it to 
take as much sleep as is necessary and beneficial. The fact 
is, nine times out of ten, ignorant nurses make children ill 
with their food, and kill them with their physic ; for when the 
spirit bottle is in the cupboard with the pap dish, the God- 
frey's cordial or syrup of poppies, or something of the sauM 
kind will generally be found not far off. 

473. As the mother's milk is the first, so it should be for 
several months the principal food of the child. There are no 
children so thriving and healthy, so well fitted to endure the 
diseases of childhood, and so likely to grow up with vigorous 
constitutions, as those who have lived for the first six or nios 


moaths upon the milk of a healthy mother. Mothers in gia. 
neral enjoy good health while they suckle^ and when they do 
so^ they had better suckle a child thoroughly than half do it ; 
it is very injurious to both mother and child when the milk is 
allowed to remain six or eight hours without being diawn off. 
A poor woman who has been out to work and left her child 
all day, or nearly so, although it may have been kept quiet 
by feeding during her absence, will find it, after suckmg, be. 
come uneasy and disordered ; and so will a fine lady who has 
been out taking her pleasure. They will also have expen. 
enced very uneasy and injurious sensations themselves, in 
oosisequeuce of the long confinement of the milk. 

474. If a mother is really weakly and has not a sufficient 
supply of milk for the nourishment of her babe, a little food 
will be necessary. If so, nothing is better than equal parts 
of grit gruel and cow's milk, or food made of flour which has 
b^en dried in an oven, and then made the same as directed 
for milk porridge, (par. 201.) The less of sugar tliat is given, 
the better ; it is apt to turn sour on the stomach, and at any 
rate it is using the child to an expensive habit. Food that 
has either sugar or milk should never be re warmed, or it be. 
conies very unwholesome. Arrow root, and s^o are very 
good food, but very expensive. 

t 475. But though I have pleaded for a child being suckled, 
and thoroughly suckled, I do not plead for its beiug long 
suckled. Many poor women ruin their constitutions by long 
suckling, perhaps even under very improper circumstances. 
I do not think that any child is the better for being suckled 
longer than nine or ten months, and most children might 
safely be weaned rather earlier; but this seems to be about a 
reasonable time. The sooner they can be broke of taking 
iifiy thing in the night, the better ; a little milk and water the 
first few nights of weaning will be quite suffieieat. 

476. Children ought not to be rocked either when asleep 
or to lull them to it ; it is both unnecessary and hurtful. If 
a child be well nourished and free firom pain, it will sleep in 
the day time as much as is necessary to its own welfare; and 
if it be not quite enough to suit the mother's convenience, she 
must comfort herself with the reflection that the liveliest chil- 
dren are soonest out of hand ; and as for night sleeping, let 
the mother take it upon her arm, and allow it access to h^ 
bosom, its natural cradle, and she will rarely have to conw 
plain of its sleepless nights. There is nothing more wonder- 
ful and pleasing than to observe how instinct teaches a mother 
to manage her babe m tlie unconscious hours of sleep, tun^ 


log it orer, from side to side, in perfect safety, without breaking 
her own slumber. Children who hare been thus nursed dur. 
ing their early mouths, will gen^^lly, when properly weaned, 
sleep the whole night without interruption. 

477. Children should be accustomed to go to bed at an 
early and regular hour ; this will be found beneficial to both their 
health and temper, and to the general comfort of the house. 
When I see frethatl ilLmanaged children down stairs at nine or 
ten o'clock at night, I conclude it is to indulge the mother in 
morning laziness, and expect to see in all her concerns evident 
marks of their being managed by an indolent slatton. It is a 
good maxim both for parents and children — 

' Early to bed, and early to rise. 

Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.* 

478. As soon as a child has a notion of holding any thing 
in its hand, it should be supplied with a piece of uf^per crust 
of bread. This is very nourishing, besides being a cheaper 
and safer gumstick than coral or sealing wax, and more effi. 
cacious than all the crooked sixpences and anodyne neck- 
laces in the kingdom. 

479. All kinds of cakes, gingerbread, and sugarplums*, are 
very injurious, and nothing more so than raw apples ; they 
will lie undigested in a child^s stomach for days and even 
weeks, and will often occasion very unpleasant breakings out, 
besides weakening the stomach and bowels. 

480. Children should not be allowed meat, until they have 
cut most of their teeth, and can run alone ; the first is neces. 
sary to their chewing, the other to their digesting it ; even 
then it should be shred very small, and they had better have 
it only every other day. 

481. When first children are weaned, and for some time 
afterguards, the best food they can have is milk. If they are 
relaxed in their bowels, let the milk be thickened with rice or 
flour ; if they eu*e confined in that respect, oatmeal and bread 
are preferable; a roasted or coddlea apple is also good in 
this case ; a little broth will vary their diet. Flour puddings 
are apt to lie heavy in the stomachs of young children. 

482. Potatoes if given them should be carefully mashed 
and separated from* every lump. Sof^d bread is a poor 
bloating kind of food ; they had much better chew the bread 
dry, and have milk or water to drink. The best drink they 

* The common sugar-plomhs gold in the- shops are principaTti 
eomi>osed of actual poison. 


can have is water, or inilk and water. Beer and wine aie 
always hurtful to them. Wine is ibr the sick *, and beer fiyr 
the labouring. If these things are given to chihlren, it is very 
Irkely that Qiey will become mckiy, and very unlikely tliat 
they will hve to be Jaborious. If they hve to jLrrow up at all, 
they will most likely be the prey of disease and bad habits. 

483. As to the exercise of children ; while very young it 
will be most safely taken in tlie nurse's arms; let them be fre. 
quently dandled about in a lively yet gentle manner — let 
tiiem sdso be talked to and amused. It is pleasant to observe 
how soon they begin to take notice, and the tiiBe employed 
in playing with, and amusing them, is well bestowed ; a child 
well nursed for the first few months, acquires skill and strength 
much sooner, and is able to shift for itself at an earlier age, 
than one that has been neglected. All violent noises, and 
rough shaking or jerking should be avoided ; they can do no 
good, often frighten a child, and sometimes produce serious 
and incurable disorders. 

484. Night and morning, when a child is undressed, it 
should be sdlowed a few moments to stretch its limbs and play 
about naked, (care of course must be taken tliat it is not ex. 
posed to drafts or chills;) the mother also should gently rub 
its body and limbs, and encourage it to move, and kick, and 
stretch about at pleasure. 

485. Childr^i should be chieily carried in a lying posture 
until they become so strong as to rear themselves up ; other, 
wise there is a danger of injuring the chest and distorting the 
back bone by the pressure of the nurse's hand. 

486. A child should be very eai'ly accustomed to lie on 
the floor ; this at once relieves the nurse's arms, and promole^ 
the child's growth and strength ; a decent careful mother will 
have an old piece of carpet or baize, on purpose to spread on 
the floor for the child to lie or crawl on. Mind, though I 
recommend that a child be laid on the floor, and allowed to 
crawl there when it acquires strength so to do, I do not ap. 
prove of letting it sit on the floor, or sit at all ; tliis makes a 
child lumpy and ill shaped, the other stretches and exercises its 
limbs. Nor, though I would have it laid on the floor, would 
I recommend its being left there ; an older child should be set 
to play with it gently. The mother too should keep an eye 
upc»i it; and in the midst of her employment oilen turn 
round to see that it is safe and happy. 

* Don't let roe be mistaken here ; this will be farther spoken ol 


487. All kinds of leading: strings, go-carts, ploujuhs, and 
nings are improper, and often occasion misshapen and weak 
limbs. All attempts to make a child walk, before it has ac 
quired mfficient strength and skill, are wrong and foolish ; it 
is a pity there should be any pride and emulation among 
mothers to make their children walk at an earlier age than 
tliose of their neighbours ; and a pity, indeed, that a nursed 
back shoidd ache in trying to make them walk at all. All 
diildren who have health and the use of their limbs, when 
they become strong enough, will be sure to walk of their own 
accord, and it is curious to observe the progress of the little 
creatures. Af\er being laid on the carpet several weeks, the 
first time the child turns itself half round, it gives a lively 
crow, as if amazed and delighted at its own dexterity and 
success; presently it tries a little farther, gets completely 
round u))on its hands and knees, and cooes to the nowers 
(ipon tlie carpet; it soon advances, to carry itself forward 
(by a motion resembling that of a frog swimming) in pursuit 
of its ball. In time it raises itself up by a chair, and sup^ 

Sirts itself there, using the chair as a table for its play things, 
y degrees it depends less and less upon the chair for support 
and at length takes courage and ventures to walk across the 
room, delighted with its newly discovered power. Such a 
child, not having been forced beyond its strength, and having 
acquired its skill by experience, never forgets what it has 
learned ; from that moment it is as easy for it to walk, upon 
level ground, as it would be a year or two hence. It is amus. 
ing to observe how this child will deliberate upon any thing it 
meets with out of the common way ; a step, for instance ; it 
will not rush down heedlessly, as a child would do who had 
just learnt to walk by means of leading strings, or of the 
nurse's arms, but it will either turn back, as if satisfied that 
the exertion was too great for its powera, or else, bringing hands 
and knees into employ, will gradually and carefully let itself 
down without injury. A stool or a box standing in the way, 
over wliich a little heedless nurse.taught creature would stunu 
hie and severely hurt itself, tliis child will either walk care, 
fully round, or push out of the way ; it will also learn in a 
very short time to go up and down stairs with perfect safety, 
while the child who had by its nurse's exertions been madg to 
wMdk a month earlier, being weak, and yet ignorant of its 
weakness ; timid, and yet heedless, is continually exposed to 
blows and falls, and is perhaps discouraged and thrown off 
its feet, and in the end made two or three months back warder 
than tlie other. These remarks may be permitted from % 


mollier w1iO£;e five children Iiave never been taught to walk 
at all, (3ut have been treated exactly in the manner here do. 
scribed ; one of the Ave ran alone at eleven montlis old, and 
t]ie other (bur between that period and thirteen months; not 
merelv ran once across the room, but tix>m that moment felt 
themselves in full possession of the power of walking ; not omi 
of tliem ever had a Tall in consequence of running or attempt, 
ing to run alone ; and beibre two years of age, every one of 
tliem could go up and down stairs with ease and salety. 

488. A child should not be laid down to rest immediately 
9ii%r being suckled or fed, but sirauld be kept in gentle exer. 
dse intil it throws up a little wind, othenvise its sleep will be 
disturbed, and even tits may be brought on from fulness and 
oppression. Particular attention is necessary to this, wlien 
from any cause the child may have been longer without f^od, 
find received it with moi'e than usual eagerness. 1 recollect 
a decent hard working woman, a laundress, who being busy 
ironing, was loatli to be taken from her work to give lief 
diild the breast; at length when she sat down to tea, the ia. 
faut, a fine healthy child of five or six months old was brought 
to her, it sucked very eagerly, and then dropped asleep ; tlie 
mother laid it down from her breast to the cradle ; before slie 
returned to her work, she looked at the child and observed 
that it was ciuite black round the lips ; unfortunately, or tw-^ 
thei* thoughtlessly, instead of raising it up and endeavouring 
to do any thing for its relief, she ran out of the house to call 
a doctor, some minutes were lost beibre they could arrive, 
and the poor babe had already expired in a fit, occasioned 
no doubt by the heated and windy ftiilk oppressing its ex. 
liausted stomach. With this affecting fact, please to bear in 
mind the fbllowing hints: — That a mother when unusually 
heated or fatigued, ought not to suckle her child until slie 
lias composed herself a tew minutes and taken some refreslu 
meiit; — that in such a case particularly the cliild should not 
go from her arms until it has thrown up the wind ; — and that 
in case of a child appearing to be seized with a fit, it should 
be instantly taken out of bed, strip|>ed, gently rubbed, and 
|nit into a warm bath, not waiting the arrival of a doctor, but 
doing this while he is sent for. These are the first things lie 
will be sure to order, and if delayed, the cliiid's life may be 
gone before he can arrive. 

489. Air is of great benefit to children, indeed it is abso 
lutely necessary to their health ; yet some caution and pru. 
iience are necessary, especially when, as is often the case with 
tfie labouriu>' classes, the mother is obliged to be out at woik^ 


and ]eave Uie care of her infant to an elder ckiid. An inr 
ituit should never he exposed to h draft of air, or to a 
cold north.easter]y wind, or to the damps of evening, neitlier 
■hould it receive the acorcliing rays of the sun. When taken 
ahroail, its chest, bowels, and feet sliould i>e CcU'efuIly co- 
vered and screened from the cold. I have repeatedly seen a 
nurse girl, or even a tiioughtless mother, stand at a passage 
door, or at an open window witli an infant in her arms, wlien 
the air was either damp or keen, and in a little time 1 have 
heard without suiiu'ise tliat tlie child had died of croup or in. 
flammatioQ of tJie lun^j^g. A mother who is obliged tc leav^ 
her hifant should be very particular in her injunctions H) 
tJiose witli whom she entrusts it 1 remember a careful laa, 
ther who went out to washing, and I have often admired lier 
management lor the safety and well being of her infant. She 
would go to lier work very early in the moining, leaving her 
child asleep in tlie cai'e of her eldest daughter, a girl of nine 
or ten years old ; at breakfast time slia ran home and profierly 
di«ssed Uie child; — for this indulgence she stipulated with bet 
employers, and she was so early, so active, and so forecasting 
in her work, that tliey could afford to grant it; — ^she then gav« 
directions to her young nurse, sometimes permitting her, if 
the weather was fine, to walk backwards and ibrwarib with 
the child beibi*e the house where she was employed, but ge. 
nerally charging her to keep it as much as possible amused 
in the ci'adle. ' I had rather,' she would say, ' have you 
mind it, and see tliat no mischief comes to it, than try to 
lug it about, and perhaps fall down witli it and bi'eak itf 
bones.' At meal times the child was brought to her to suck, 
and wlien her day's work was over, however wearied slie 
might be, she never failed to give it an hour's good lively 
nursing before she put it to bed, saying she should nevei for* 
give herself if her child became rickety through her going out 
to work. I wish no motlier was obliged to leave an infant; 
but if the support of the family in a great measure de|H'nds 
on her doing so, she ought to contrive Uiat her childi-eu suffer 
as little as possible by her absence ; and much may be done 
by contrivance. 

490. When a child is short-coated, the best kind of shoe^ 

*V ^*i" u^^ ""^* ^' ™"* alone, are tliick woollen, a pair 
ol which a notable mother can knit in the dusk of two evea. 
^^hfi iutleed these shoes or socks answer very well when tha 
cmid does run, if the moUier have notion enough to stitch a 

thl f 'V^'^rT u'^^^. ^y ^^y ^^ ^^"^i » 'i^tle knowledge 

01 Uie uade of both cobbler and tailor, possessed by nuS^ 


woman, or child, is yery bandy, aiid aaves many a penny, 
which perhaps can be ill afforded to be i^nt 

491. Faceination, — I cannot diaoiiss the management of 
infants, without a few words on the subject of vaccination, or 
the cow.pock. The smalLpox, it need not be told, is a very 
dread^l disease ; at least oue in twenty * who takes it natn. 
rally is found to die of it, and nine more out of twenty have it 
severely ; much suffering and expense are incurred ; some- 
times difsease or blindness remain, and the person is disfigured 
with ugly scars. About a hundred years ago, a celebrated 
physician, one Dr. Mead, proposed a plan which had been 
found in other countries to mitigate the severity of this dread* 
fill and loathsome disorder; it was by inoculation, that is^ 
taking matter from the pimples of the small-pox, and insert, 
ing it with a lancet under the skin of a person who has not 
had the small-pox, thus causing it to mix with his blood, and 
give him the disorder, in hope that he would have it in a 
more favourable way. When this was proposed, some could 
not imagine how it could be effected; but others bethought 
themselves of putting only a small quantity of yeast into a 
large tub of beer, or a large quantity of flour, which presently 
aet the whole a working; or of putting a small quantity of 
rennet into a large pan of milk, which soon turned the whole 
t6 curds and whey ; so they thought the thing might be done^ 
but yet they could not see the use of it The doctor o}>served 
that persons who take the smalUpox naturally are liable to 
take it when their blood was in a bad state, but that if per* 
sons were to be inoculated, they might have it when tney 
would, and when the body had been previously prepared by 
diet and medicine. Besides, when a person is seized with na. 
tural small.pox, it may not at first be discovered what it is^ 
and the treatment used may be very improper; but under 
inoculation, it is fully known what is coming, and the very 
best means may at once be resorted to; all this and mucn 
more that was said seemed very reasonable. At last the 
king gave leave that the experiment should be tried on seven 
eondemned criminals, who did very well under the doctor's 
treatment, and had their lives given* them for their adventurer 
"With this the king was so wcU pleased, that the year follow, 
ing he had two of the young princesses inoculated, who had 
the distemper favourably ; then succeeded \he nobility, and 
IS a fashion set by great people is sure to b« followed, the 
pniotice soon prevailed. Still many people sonld not alto. 

• It has been said Mi^ifim. 


gether approve of the new mode. Though by far the most did 
well, it was found that some died ; and though that was not 
more than one in two hundred, yet every parent naturally 
thought, ' perhaps my child may be the very one,' and «o 
many were afraid to venture. Besides, some religious good 
people thought, * perhaps it might be wrong to give the child 
a disorder which God Almighty did not at that time send ;' 
and others said, ' What right have I, for the sake of securing 
my own children, to expose my neighbours to catch the disorder, 
who do not choose to be inoculated P' This also seemed rea- 
sonable ; and the only thing that could be done, was for every 
one to judge for themselves, and act as they thought best. 
But about thirty years ago, another discovery was made, viz. 
that those who by milking cows had taken a disorder to which 
tiiose auimals are liable, were not afterwards subject to the 
small .pox ; this set the doctors of that day upon considering 
whether this disorder of the cows might not be communicated 
in the same way of inoculation ; so Dr. Jenner (of whom you 
have most likely heard) devoted a great deal of time and at- 
tendon to it, and at last had the great satisfaction to find ; 
First, That the disease might easily be communicated. Se. 
cond. That it was so light as scarcely to deserve the name of 
a disease, not in a single instance fatal, or even dangerous. 
Third, That it was not at all infectious ; no person can pos. 
sibiy catch it, even by sleeping with one who has it; it can 
only be received by inoculation. Fourth, That it is in a vast 
majority of cases effectual in preventing the small.pox at. 
tadung the patient afterwards. Fifth, That those few who 
are attacked with the small-pox after vaccination, have it 
very mildly and favourably. It wants some of the worst 
symptoms of small.pox, and can scarcely be properly called 
the same disease. Nearly thirty years have confirmed the 
truth of these observations. Now mind, in this all the objec- 
tions are done away that used to prevail against the old ino. 
cnlation. You do not by vaccinating your children endan. 
ger them, for it is never dangerous ; you do not bring upon 
tiiem a disease, for the cow-pock really does not deserve tlie 
name ; you do not endanger your neighbours, for it is not in 
fectious ; then now let me ask. Have your children been vac- 
cinated'^ If not, why is it? I shall not now answer the 
objections made against it at first by ignorant people as ' a 
beast's disorder,' for that nonsense I believe has ceased long 
ago ; and at any rate I would conclude that you have too 
much good sense to give any heM to it. But do you doubt 
the efficacy of vaccination** Admitting even that in soma 


it is not a complete preventive against the small. pox, 
yet Its so far mitigating* tfie violence of that dreadful diseatie 
certainly renders it well worth embracing. Do you think 
much of the expense? Even if you were obliged to pay it, 
it would be a vast deal less than the expense incurred by ba. 
Earding the natural small.pox, to say nothing of the suffering 
and danger. Beside, in almost every town, there are medical 
men who vaccinate free of expense; it is only the trouble of 
going to them. Is it then from negligence and delay that it 
has not been done ? I must say, 1 think this much most likely 
to be the true reason. I called at a house not many days 
ago, where a child was suffering most dreadfully with natural 
small pox ; blind, delirious, his person one mass of loathsome 
sore, his very life endangered, and the mother bewailing, 
' Oh ! it is all my own fault ; if he dies I shall never forgive 
myself. I might have had him vaccinated any day, and 
from day to day said I would take him, but from day to day 
neglected and put it off. I had fully determined to take him 
tlie first leisure day last week, but before that day arrived Ik; 
h<id begun to sicken. How can I bear to lose my child 
tlirough my own neglect !' Do not my friends suffer your- 
selves to be the prey of such bitter but unavailing regrets. 
If you have not duly considered the subject, do so without 
delay, and consult some prudent candid friend on whose judg- 
ment you can rely. If you think it right to have your child 
vaccinated, and intend to do so, " Whatsoever youi' hand 
findeth you to do, do it with all your might.'* 


Hints on Sickness and Accidents* 

' 492^. Although I venture to make a' few remarks which 
may prove useful in the season of sickness (and what cottage 
18 there, or what palace exempt from such seasons?) let it not 
be supposed that I presume to interfere with the province of 
the regular doctor, or to make light of his skilful aid : — far from 
it ; I reckon it a great blessing indeed, that in most places, 
by the benevolent provision of societies or individuals, persons 
'in sickness who cannot afford the expense themselves, may be 


gratuitously furnished with the best medical advice; no per. 
sou who is really ill, ought fh>in pride or carelessness to neg^ 
ject so great a benefit. But there are many simple and tri. 
fling indispositions, for which common sense at once points 
out easy and simple remedies, and which it is really not wcHrth 
while to go to expense, to burden a society, or trouble a 
doctor about; these, very trifles, however, if neglected or 
improperly boated, may grow into serious diseases. Them 
are also many sudden attacks of illness or accident, under 
which a person may perish before a doctor can arrive, (espe. 
cially if, as is often the case in country villages, he lives at 
H considerable distance,) unless some person at hand has the 
notion of giving assistance; and, once more, when a doc^ 
tor anives, he may find that those around the patient have 
been doing the most absurd and improper things, and such as 
render all bis endeavours fruitless ; or he may find them using 
rational means, and so suitably prepared to follow his direc. 
tious, as shall really render his endeavours more easy, expe- 
ditious, and successful. A few plain hints on each of tl^se 
subjects may be admitted without oflence. 


493. You well know the effect of laborious exertion, it 
throws you into a violent perspiration ; a violent perspiration 
is not always necessary or desirable, but in a healtliy person 
there is always a greater or a less degree of it carried on-; 
when this perspiration is obstructed or put a stop to, a person 
is said to have taken cold, as this stoppage is generally occa. 
sioned by exposure to wet or cold, especially by sudden tran- 
sition from heat to cold. The person who has been thus 
exposed feels chilly, shivering, and weary ; perhaps has pain 
in his limbs or back ; perhaps soreness of throat. Now what 
«s to be done in such a case P Shall the doctor be sent for ? 
* Oh no,' you reply, ' it is only a bit of a cold/ Some neigh, 
hour advises a glass of hot wine and spice, or beer, or spirits 
and water, and promises that you will be well enough by to* 
morrow morning ; this advice is often followed. If the pre- 
scrilied remedies are not at hand, some one is dispatched to 
apply for them at the house of a wealthy and benevolent 
neighbour; if he be not also judicious, or if the dispensing ol 
his bounty be left in the hands of servants, the request is 
most likely granted; the person pturtakes freely of what it 
sent, perhaps finding it a palatable treat, and not doubting 
but it wiH prove an efficacious medicine. And what is the 
consequence? It b verv likely he goes to sleep, for any 


thing stronger than a person is accustomed to, tends to mak« 
him drowsy; but Ids sleep is disturbed, and he wakes iu a 
burning hea^ with a violent head-ach, and parched mouth. 
If he is a person of a resolute persevering disposition, feeling 
anxious to pursue liis daily labour, on which, if the head of 
a family, the support of those around him depends, he flatters 
himself that he shall be better when he gets up ; so up hi 
gets and goes to his work, scarcely able to creep altout ; he is 
chilly, languid, and feeble ; at night the same dose is repeat- 
ed, and ' without doubt he will be better to-morrow ;* but the 
disturbed sleep, the burning heat, the parching thirst returu 
with greater violence ; the next day he cannot go to work, the 
family become alarmed, a doctor is sent for, who finds that 
every possible means has been used to feed the disease, which 
he fears all his skill will not be able to subdue ; perhaps the 
head and support of a family is swept away ; or should he 
recover from a severe and dangerous illness, his strength is 
impaired, it is long before he can return to his accustomed 
duties, and the family suffer great distress in consequence; 
perhaps the disease is communicated to one or more indivi. 
duals of the family, and from them to the neighbourhood, and 
it is impossible to say how far the calamity may spread ; — ^and 
yet those for whom I write, know well, that what I have d«- 
scribed is no more than the common practice continually re- 
sorted to among labouring people. If a house were on fire, 
^hat should you think of seeing the neighbours run, one with 
a sack of shavings, another with a deal plank, another with a 
vessel of pitch or turpentine, and throwing them into the 
flames ? You would say, to be sure they must be mad, or 
else they have formed a conspiracy to bum the town, and 
you would be for taking them either to the prison or the 
mad-house. Now let me impress it on your minds, that when 
a person is seized with illness in the way above described, a 
fire is smothering in his body, which by proper means may, 
in all probability, be put out; but every drop of beer, wine, 
spirits, or spiceries, would be to his blood just the same as the 
shavings, deal, or pitch to the house on flames. I hope if 
yourself or any of your family should be indisposed, you will 
remember this, and act in a more rational way. 

494. And what would you have us do?' In the first 
place, if the clothes are wet, I would have them changed, 
and file skin nibbed with a coarse cloth ; next, I would have 
the f^t and legs soaked for about ten minutes in wai;iB 
mater fif you have got the grates described, par. 54. yon 
luive always hot water at hand;) this water, I \iould oh. 


serve, should not be too hot, but moderately warm, just so as 
to feel pleasaut, and if it begins to chill before the time of 
taking out, let a little more be added, so that the feet may be 
taken out quite warm; let them be rubbed thoroughly dry, 
wrapped in flannel, or in a warm cloth, and let the person 
immediately get into a warm bed; in the mean time have 
ready some thin gruel, (without any addition of beer, wine, or 
spmts,) barley water, bran tea, or tea made of balm, with a 
sprig or two of mint, or of camomile flowers ; let the pei-son 
drink freely of either of these, and it may be hoped that a 
free perspiration will be restored ; if this is the case, he had 
better lie an hour or two later than usual in the morning, and 
take some warm tea or porridge in bed, even though he loses 
half or a whole day's work, it may be a saving in the end ; 
and if he be a poor man, the assistance of his rich neighbours 
would be much better employed, and most likely as willingly 
imparted, to make up the loss of an industrious man's labour, 
as in giving wine or spirits, which may truly in such a case 
be called expensive poison. 

495. It will be necessary to attend to the state of the 
bowels; let the person take, early in the morning, a dose of 
any simple physic that may be at hand, such as castor oil, 
senna tea, lenitive electuary, sulphur cream of tartar and 
treacle, or Epsom salts, one ounce dissolved in at least a pint 
of boiling water, and a small tea-cup full taken every half 
hour till it operates. Through that day at least tlie person 
should abstain from meat, cheese, beer, or any tiling else of 
a heating nature. He will in all probability, ivhen perspira. 
tion is restored, and the medicine has operated, find himself 
quite relieved, may go to work next morning as well as usual, 
and has only to be cautioned against renewing his cold, or in- 
dulgi4ig in any excess in eating or drinking. 

496. But if the warm water and warm liquid should fail to 
restore perspiration, or if the simple medicines directed should 
fail to open the bowels, and either shivering, pain, or burning 
heat should continue, let no time be lost in calling in the best 
advice within your power ; state candidly what has been done, 
and if it be as much and no more than is here directed, I do 
not think you will be blamed either for neglect or improper 
Interference, or that your endeavours will be likely to thwart 
those of a superior adviser. 

497. I have spoken of wine as highly improper in the be- 
ginning of a fever, or when a person is feverish through having 
taken cold ; but there are cases of fever in which wines, cor- 
dials, and food which in other cases ave poison, would be ab« 


solafely necessary. Very frequentJy also, to a person reco* 
vering from a fever, a small quantity of good wine proves a 
most valuable medicine ; but able, well educated, and experl 
enced medical men, alone, are able to form a judgment, and 
give directions in these cases ; and it is earnestly to be wislu 
ed, that in every case of sickness, not a single drop of fer- 
mented liquor should be used, but by the express directif>]i 
of a medical man ; nor any thing of the kind given by cha. 
ri table individuals, except on receiving a written declaration 
to that effect from the medical gentleman himself. I believe 
that such a measure would save many lives in the course of a 

498. In all feverish complaints, especially if attended with 
sore throat, the mouth and throat should be frequently wash- 
ed witli a mixture of vinegar and water ; this is delightfully 
refreshing, and will of itself sometimes cure a slight sore 

499. A sore throat is sometimes relieved, by wearing a piece 
of flannel or black ribbon, which has been dipped in a mix- 
ture of oil and spirits of hartshorn; but this is not always 
proper. There can never arise any harm from wearing a bit 
of flannel round the neck, only taking care to leave it off 
gradually. A olister round the throat is often of great ser- 
vice in a sore throat; and when the inside of the throat is 
swollen, and perhaps ulcerated, so that no food can be swal- 
li»wed, and even liquids are returned through the nose, there 
is nothing better than frequently to draw in steam, by holding 
the mouth over a jug or coffee pot, filled with hot vinegar, or 
vinegar and water. 

600, But none of these remedies are to be depended on 
without proper attention to the siate of the bowels. They 
should be kept constantly open by means of some simple 
medicine, as recommended, par. 495. It will also be neces- 
sary that the person who has as bad a sore throat as is here 
supposed, should keep constantly in bed, and drink frequently 
of barley water, in which nitre has been dissolved, (see list at 
the end of tlie section ;) but most persons who can have access 
to proper advice, will be inclined to resort to it before the 
complaint has proceeded so far; and these hints are given 
chiefly for direction of persons in country villages who really 
cannot obtain proper advice. 

501. If a person is suffering with head-ach and sickness, 
which appear to proceed from the stomach being overloacL 
ed with food which it cannot digest, relief must be sought by 
unloading it. I would say, take an emetic, but most likely 


yon have not one at hand ; it is not a good way to keep aawU 
quantities of medicine in the house, they lose their virtue^ aad 
often become hurtful. If you hare to go out for an emetic, 
the person of whom you get it will be more able to direct yoa 
as to the propriety of taking it at all, and the kind and quan. 
tity to be taken, than any directions that can be given yon in 
a book. But if you cannot get an emetic, or do not choose 
to take one, the porpose may be answered as well by taking 
a good quantity of camomile tea ; take half a pint every quar. 
ter of an hour, till either your stomach is thoroughly relieved 
by vomiting, or the head-ach and feehng of sickness are re. 
moved without At night a dose of salts, or senna^ or rha. 
barb and magnesia should be taken. 

602, If an emetic is necessary and cannot be procured^ 
the following will answer the purpose, and is always at hand. 
Two teaspoons full of flour of mustard, mixed smooth in 
about two tablespoons full of warm water; to be repeated in 
a quarter of an hour if it has not operated. The only objec- 
tion to this is, that it is heating to the stomach. If camomile 
flowers are to be had, I think them preferable, and they will 
generally answer the end of an emetic, if the stomach is in a 
state to require it. 

5(Ki. If a person is afllicted with a violent peun in his bowels, 
attended with frequent sickness, obstinate costiveness, and ten- 
derness of the flesh, the best advice should be immediately 
sought for, as he is probably suffering from a dangerous and 
rapid complaint, inflammation of the bowels; but in case of 
any delay in obtaining medical advice, relief may be attempt, 
ed by giving a large dose of castor oil, and applying a warm 
poultice large enough to cover the whole of the bowels. 

d04. In case of a violently disordered state of the bowel% 
very different treatment is required, according to diflferent 
circumstances and symptoms; sometimes it is necessary to 
promote, and at otlier times to check the discharge ; there- 
lore it will generally be best, if possible, to obtain regular 
medical advice. If this cannot be done, and the sick person, 
or those around him, must follow their own best judgment, 
the following remarks may be some guide. It should be 
noticed whether the frequent motions relieve the person, or 
whether he appears to be exhausted by them, his hands and 
his feet cold, and his countenance shrunk. In the first case, 
the discharge is most likely an effort of nature, to relieve it- 
self of what is injurious, and ought not to be checked, but 
rather assisted by means of warm broth or gruel ; a small 
4|uantity of rhubarb may be taken with advantage; it should 


be dried before the fire and taken two or three times a day in 
a little peppermint water, fiut if the patient's streng;th ap- 
pears to be greatly exhausted, something must be done to sup- 
port his strength and moderate the discharge. There is no 
medicine .better than Dalby's carminative; a bottle may be 
taken at two doses — ^and tli^ food should be rice gruel with a 
little wine and spice, or beef tea thickened with rice., 

505. In a sudden and alarming bowel attack, called Cholera^ 
Morbus, tiie following course has been pursued with great suc- 
cess. The person is generally in violent pain in the bowela 
attended widi purging, languid, fednt, and sick, but unable to 
vomit ; sometimes pain in ti^e limbs and cramp, and the coun- 
tenance is contracted. Immediately give an emetic — one grain 
of emetic tartar dissolved in warm water— work it off with 
camondle tea : as soon as the stomach will bear it, give a dose 
of the following mixture, and repeat it every two hours till re- 
lief is obtained : — tincture of rhubarb two ounces ; laudanum 
one drachm ; peppermint water six ounces ; one sixth part for 
a dose. When thirsty take soda draughts (par. 636) or balm 
tea. If the bowels become confined, take a small dose of 
Epsom salts or brimstone and treacle; if too much relaxed, 
take a dose of the above mixture, or of Dalby's carminative. 

506. To prevent infection in small pox, fevers, SfC. Be very 
careful to keep the room airy and perfectly clean. When at- 
tending on the sick person, put a teaspoon full of salad oil in 
your mouth, and sprmkle the room with Labarraque's Chloride 
of Soda or of Lime. These valuable preparations are sold, with 
full directions for use, by Beaufoy, Druggist, Strand, London ; 
and by most respectable druggists and medicine 'genders. 

507. For a troublesome tickling cough occasioned by cold, 
the first means resorted should be such as promote perspiration ; 
treacle posset, orange or vinegar whey, or tea of elder flowers, 
marsh-mallow, or bran tea, or barley water, with gum arable, and 
honey, or figs. But should the cough continue, especially if it 
be attended with hoarseness, tightness of the chest, pain in the 
side, or difiiculty of breathing, medical advice should be sought 
without delay, lest it terminate in consumption, or inflammation 

of the lungs. A blister should be applied to the chest or side, 

or a Burgundy pitch plaster constantly worn, either between the 
shoulders or on the chest, to be renewed as it becomes flabby and 
wrinkled. A hare or rabbit skin properly prepared is sometimes 
very beneficial, or flannel next the skin, also worsted stockings. 
If ever these things are left off, it must be in very warm 
settled weather, and when all tenderness has ceased. When 
the use of flannel is adopted, it is necessary to pay proper 



attention to cleanliness. Some people lUiYe a strange notion 
that flannel next the skin cannot be worn too lon^ without 
washing ; indeed 1 have heard persons speak of wearing it till 
it dropped off; but this plan is as unwholesome as it is filthy ; 
flannel should never be worn longer than a fortnight without 
changing ; great attention of course must be paid to its beiug 
well aired. It is generally recommended to those who wear 
flannel next the skin^ not to sleep in it ; in this case it should 
be hung every night in a room where there has been a fire 
through the day. 

• 508. Butter milk is often serviceable to consumptive per- 
•ons, but it should be drank constantly, and persevered in a 
long time. ^ ^ 

509. Persons who are liable to head.ach, should keep the 
hair very thin by frequent cutting, or even shaving ; the head 
should be kept cool, often washed, and all tight bandages 

510. Those who suffer from cold feet, will find great ad., 
vantage in wearing socks made of oiled silk, (the same as is 
used for making umbrellas;) but as the two last mentioned 
complaints belong rather to the sedentary than the active, it 
may be hoped that cottagers are pretty free from them ; these 
pages may however fall into the hands of those whose employ, 
ments confine them to the desk, the shop board, or the work 
table, and for their benefit these hints are inserted. 

. 511. For tooth.ach, ear-ach, or face-ach, a flannel bag may 
be filled with camomile flowers, or feverfew, wrung out of 
boiling water, (sprinkled with spirits of hartshorn, or sal vo- 
latile if you ^have any, if not it will do without,) and applied 
very warm over the ear, or cheek, as the pain may be : or for 
the tooth.ach, or head.ach when confined to the temple, relief 
may sometimes be found by shaving thin the outer rind of a 
lemon, and sticking a piece as large as a half crown, on 
^e cheek below the ear for tooth.ach, or for head.ach on the 
temple. The tooth-ach is sometimes relieved by th^ steam of 
kenbanc seeds, but let it be remembered that tliey are poison, 
•us, and care taken accordingly. 

512. Rheumatism is of two kinds, very different from each 
ether, and requiring very different treatment ; one is attended 
with a. great degree of fever ; the other, to which old people ara 
most liable, b of a very cold nature, and rather resembles ihm 
..palsy; those who have been afflicted with the latter kind, 
kaving perhaps found relief from hot applications, and hear. 
^ing of some neighbour, in the height of youth, strength, and 
ftilness, seized with rheumatism^ and suffering violent agonic^ 


fltrongly recommend to him the use of the same powerful ap. 
plication which had done them so much good, and which in 
a certain cure for the rheumatism f but this is a very great 
mistake, and sometimes a very dangerous one; almost the 
only points in which the treatment of these two kinds of rheu. 
matism agree, are those of avoiding bleak and damp air, and 
keeping the bowels open. 

' 513. A person who is seized with acute rheumatism (or rheu. 
matism attended with i&f^r) should by all means seek proper 
medical advice. It may arise from an inward disorder which 
requires great skill and minute attention to ascertain. It may 
be of the same nature as an inflammatory fever, and requii^ 
bleeding and other lowering treatment. - In either case, strong 
outward applications cannot do any good, and may do serious 
injury ; and where a mistake is so easily made, the only se^ 
curity against it, is in the advice of one, whose professional 
skill and experience qualify him to judge, not only between 
things that are opposite to each other, but between those in 
wliich there are many points of close resemblance, but at IIm 
same time some of essential difierence. 

51 4 If, however^ distance or poverty should render it im. 
possible to obtain medical advice, or even if some time must 
needs elapse before it can be obtained, it will at all events h% 
pru<lent to abstain from meat, beer, and every thing of a heat- 
mg nature, and to open the bowels with the electuary men- 
tioned, par. 495. or some other cooling medicine. Som« 
relief may probably be afforded by the application of cole« 
wort (or young cabbage) leaves, applied night and morning; 
in the same manner as is directed for dressing a blister. Th« 
warm bath also is likely to be beneficial, but great care must 
be taken to avoid chilling afterwards. 

515. For the chronic or cold rheumatism in elderly people, 
flannel is one of the best remedies, or rather preventives ; for 
too often, I fear^ rheumatism is brought on by the want of pro^ 
per waimth in clothing and bedding. I am glad when I hear 
•f wealthy people dispensing their Christmas bounties in iiannei 
and blankets ; that is doing real good ; and whether as a gift 
#r a purchase, depend upon it, three or four shillings laid out 
ia this way, is more beneficial than ten times the sum, spent 
vpon spirits or mere feasting. It may be useful to rub the liml^ ^ 
most affected, with soap liniment, or camphor liniment, or eves 
with the bare hand. Stone bottles filled with hot w^ater, of.. 
bricks which have been boiled, will be found very comfortable 
for keeping the feet warm. Mustard whey is a very proper 
4niik ; the person should freely use mustard^ horse radial^ 


«lid other hot pangeut pltrnts ; a tabJespocm full of white miu. 
tard seecl, may be tHkeu in a glass of warm water or ale, two 
or three timeg a day. 

516. Persons who are liable to scorbutic humours, should 
avoid salt meat, fat and luscious thiags, and spirituous U. 
quors; they should eat all kinds of vegetables, especially 
greens and sal lads, lettuce, endive, dandelion, sorrel, water- 
cress, and others ; they should as much as possible live upon 

milk, using whey or buttermilk as their ordinary drink ; cyder 
also is very beneficial, and sweet wort, which may be prepared 
in the fc^lowing nuinnej<. Put a handful of malt in a large 
tea pot, add to it as much water that has boiled, but is now 
somewhat cooled, as will thoroughly moisten it ; let it stand 
on the hob (but not too near the fire) for an hour or more, 
then fill up the tea pot with boiling wat^ ; and when it has 
become cool enough, pour it off and drink it, 

517. ne Itch. — Cleanliness generally keeps off such filthy 
disorders, and when they do appear, cleanliness is absolutely 
essential to their cure. Sometimes, however, such a misfor. 
tune may accidentally occur to the cleantiest people, and a 
great mortification it must be to them; however, it is not 
likely to last as long with them, or be as difficult to cure as 
whei'e it is nourished and fed by filth iness. Persons should 
he on their guard ac^^ainst taking quack medicines, which are 
in general either useless or penjicious. The old fa^on^ 
medicine, sulphur and treacle, is perhaps one of the best; 
and persons thus affected should wash themselves every 
night going to bed with warm milk, in which the roots of 
white hellebore have been boiled. The roots may be got 
either at the druggists, or at the physic herb.shops in . Co- 
vent-garden market; they are better used fsesh, and shouldL 
be cut in pieces. 

518. Of faint inp away. — This is often occasioned, especi. 
ally in delicate persons, by fear, grief, or other strong affec- 
tions of the mind ; by loss of blood, over fatigue, breadiing 
a close confined air, and other causes. When such a cir. 
cnmstance occurs, it is wrong to crowd round the pei'son, and 
tease him with irritating applications, such as bunit feathers^ 
kartshom, &c. The first thing to be done, is to let in a' 
stream of fresh air, or remove the person to where it can t« 
enjoyed ; let him be placed in a lying posture with the head 
a little raised ; let all tight strings and bandai^es be loosened ; 
tiot more than one or two persons should stand near; a few 
drops of cold water may be sprinkled in the face, and vine, 
far applied to the temple and nostrils. Wheo the peraoa 


begins to feviVe, he shoaM. as soon m possible, swallow a littlt 
cold water, with a few cbx>pB of spiiits of hartshorn, or sai vo*. 
latile, or even cold w^ter alone. 

5i9. Faintness is sometimes accompanied with hysterics, or 
a convulsive kind of citing and laughing; this should \m 
treated much in the same way, excepting, diat as it is ofteu 
occasioned or aggravated by wind on the stomach, relief may 
be obCaiued by supporting the person a few moments in a 
standing poslure, by which means the wind is dispersed; it 
may be useiul also gently to rub the stomach with the pahn 
of Uie hand. 

620. A common fainting or hysteric fit is generally pretty 
well understood ; but should you see a person apparently iu 
full health, in an instant deprived of sense and motion, and 
lying insensible to all ordinary attempts to arouse him, let 
medical help be unmediateiy called ibr; in the mean time 
Jet the person be placed in a sitting posture ; see tliat neither 
the neck cloth, or any other string or bandage obstructs the 
circulation; and if he should discover any disposition to yo.. 
mil, let it be promoted by tiie use of any emetic medicine 
which may be at hand, or by tickling the inside of the gullet 
witii the fine end of a feather, or by poising down large quao. 
titics of warm water. 

521, Tfie Piles, — Persons afflicted with. Or even liable Id 
this troublesome complaint, i^uld be careful to keep theie 
bowels gently open by means of an electuary of sulphur, creau» 
of taitar, and magnesia, in equal parts, made up with treacle 
or honey ; and either oi' the following ointjatents may be used 
occassionally : Hog's lard and sulphur; or. Two parts of gou. 
lard ointment and one part of powdered galls. 


522. Persons apparently drotvned,—^\iA many such cases 
lile has been restored by ^ompt and persevering exertions ; 
and oh what a reward, to have been instrumental iu saving 
the life of a fellow creature ! Should the distressful opportu* 
nity occur, let your best exertions be promptly, judiciously, 
and perse veringly rendered. First, diemiss sill foolish preju- 
.dices about its being unlawful to take a body into any ollii>r 

than a public house, &c. It is lawful to save life, and to use 
the best and readiest means for that purpose ; and should hit 
Majesty the King happen to be riding by, I am sure he 
would give his hearty approbation, very probably his personal 
assistance, to those who were in any rational way, endeavouu 
iug to rescue from death one of his liege subjects. 


A23. If a persoD is seen to fall into the water, whLe some 
afe employed in getting out the body, let others be iramedi. 
ately dispatched in different directions for me^Hcal aid ; not a 
moment is to be lost in such a case ; if one doctor is not at 
home, another may, and all will be ready, immediately ou 
hiftanng of the accident, to fly to the spot and render their 
best assistance. 

524. As soon as the body is taken out of the water, let the 
wet clothes be taken ofl^ and the body thoroughly dried by 
rubbing with cloths, then wrapped in a warm blanket and 
carried to the nearest house, keeping the face upwards, and 
the shoulders a little raised. 

526. Having placed it on a bed or mattrass made tho. 
roughly hot with a warming pan, rub it diligently, but gently^ 
with warm cloths or flannels, all over, but especially over IJba 
belly, chest, and limbs; after a little time, the warmth of tho 
body should be still farther promoted, by placing it in a mo- 
derately warm bath of water, brewer's grains, sand, ashes^ of 
any other matter most readily obtained. Or if there be not 
a. sufiicieiit quantity of these tilings at hand to immerse the 
whole oody, flannel bags filled with them may be applied to 
the hands, feet> and under the armpits; or cloths made hot 
by a warming pan, or heated bricks, or bottles filled, or t>lad. 
dors half filled, with hot water, or blankets and flannels wrung 
out of hot water, may be wrapped round the body and renew^ 
ed as they become cold. - 

> 926, While these operations are going on, the pipe of a 
p^ir of bellows should be applied to one nostril, the other 
nostril and the mouth being closed; blow gently, till the 
bf-east be a little raised, then let the mouth be lefl free, and 
a^ easy pressure be made ou the chest This imitation of 
li^ural breathing should be repeated until signs of life ap. 
near, and then gradually discontinued. If bellows are not at 
hand, blow, in the same manner, with your breath through a 
quill, a reed, a small pipe, or a piece oi stiff paper curled up 
U^e a funnel. 

527. When breathing begins, touch the inside of the nos- 
trils with a feather dipped in spirits of hartshorn, or sharp 
mustard, or blow some pepper or muff into them. 

528. If no medical gentleman has arrived to give direc* 
tions» it will be right to administer an injection « without 

_ • If the apparatns for this purpose is not at hand, a substitute may 
lie contrived with a tobacco pipe and a leather glove ; or twenty tltiihrs 
that are at hand will be tbou^t of and oontriv^ if anv one bv pia- 
lent with their wits about diem. 


delay ; it should be composed of a pint of ^arm water, mixed 
with a wine glass full of any kind of spirits, or a tablespoou 
full of spii'its of hartsliom, or essence of peppermint, or a largt 
teaspoon full of flour of mustard. 

529. When the person recovers so far as to be able to swal. 
low, give him, by spoonfulls, a httle warm wine, or spirits 
mixed witli water. When life is completely restored, the snf. 
ferer should remain at rest in a warm bed, taking warm and 
nourishing drinks, by which perspiration may be promoted 
and strength sustained. 

330. Though success may not seem to attend the efforts 
used, they should nevertheless be persevered in for four h<mrs 
at least ; and if they should prove successful, they must not 
be too speedily suspended; several persons have been lost 
from being quitted too soon afler recovery had commenced. 

531. All violent and rough usage is be avoided, such at 
shaking the body, rolling it over a cask, holding it up by the" 
heels, also rubbing it with salt or spirits, or injecting the 
smoke of tobacco. — The above directions are compiled from* 
the publications of Humane Societies, by which all these 
rough means are strictly forbidden. 

532. If apparent death is occasioned by hanging, the same 
treatment is to be observed as in apoplexy, (par. 520.) keep. 
in^ the head raised, and endeavouring to promote circulation^ 
through the neck, until some one arrives who can render more 
effectual aid by bleeding. 

533. For suffocation by noxious vapours, especially those 
of burning charcoal, the same treatment is to be observed at 
m the case of fainting, par. 518. 

534: If opium, laudanum, nightshade, or poisonous fungui' 
mistaken for mushrooms, or any other stupifying poison hav^ 
been taken, or even spirituous liquors in such quantity as to 
produce the like effect, (that of sickness, giddiness, stupor, and 
drowsiness,) give instantly a tablespoon full of flour of mus. 
tard in water, and repeat it with large draughts of warm water 
till vomiting takes place ; or give large draughts of warm, 
water, or milk and water mixed with oil, or melted butter or 
lard. If the person becomes so insensible as not to be easily- 
roused, give the mustard in vinegar instead of water, dash 
basons of cold water at the head, and rub and shake the body 
actively and constantly. 

535. If tlie poison be of a metallic kind, as arsenic, anti. 
mony, mercury, or when amy unknown substance or mat 
ter has been swallowed, and there have ensued heat of the 
Mouth an<I throat, violent pain of the stomach, and vomiting. 

immediately drink plentifully of wann water, in which commam 
9oap is dissolved or scraped ; from tliree or four ounces to half 
a pound may l>e taken. 

536. When oil of vitriol, spirits of salt, or aquafortis have 
been 8|Mlt upon the skin, immediately wash tlie part with 
large quantities of water, adding to it as soon as they can be 
procured, soap, potash, soda, or chalk. 

537. Of Wounds, — ^All the good, that can be done by any 
outward application is to keep the parts sod and cleeui, and to 
defend them from the air. Not only no good, but a great deal 
of mischief is done by the application of hot balsams, tinctures, 
and oils. Provided a wound does not bleed excessively, it heals 
all the better for being allowed to bleed freely. lu case there- 
fore of a common cut, the best way is to soak the hand well in 
warm water or suds, and then tie it up with <lry lint or rag, or 
lay on a piece of common adhesive plaster.* This reminds me 
of an example. A servant girl having cut her hand badly, her 
mistress sent her off to a famous surgeon in the neighbour, 
hood, who told her to wash all the dirty linen she could find 
in the house, and having done so, to cover the wound with a 
piece of sticking plaister which he gave her, and call on hidi 
again two or three days hence. She felt rather vexed at first, 
thinking that the surgeon made light of her misfortune ; how. 
ever, she obeyed his directions, and having washed for two or 
three hours, when ske came to put on tlie plaister, the wound 
was already nearly closed ; however, she laid on the plaister, 
as directed, cutting it in narrow slips, and placing them slant, 
wise, one over the edge of another, across the cut, then co- 
vering all with a finger stall, to guard it from injury ; in two 
or three days she called on the gentleman as directed, but it 
was only to thank him for his advice, for her hand was ouite 
well, it merely required to be shielded from the air a few aays 
longer ; had the poor girl been pej*suaded by ignorant neigh- 
hours to dress the wound with Friar's balsam, or any other 
heating mess, she would probably have had to trace the de. 
lightful round of infiammation, festering, proud flesh, &c. and 
have been set aside for weeks from u\e duties of her place. 
You have seen a wounded animal, and observed its remedy ; 
it was at every moment licking tlie place ; and how quickly it 
healed! it iftould have done so more quickly still, if the anL 

* Not the black plaster, commonly called court plaster, whidi is' 
moistened with the tongue to make it stick ; this disagreeB, aad provea 
ii^urioua to manv persona ; but the adhesive plaster which surgeoaa 
xifie : it may be held to the fire a moment to make it stick ; this should 
■dwayf be kept in the house ; two pf nny worth will serve a long time. 



teal had had the means oC ddtnding the wouiid from air and 
dirt. Now mind; what an animal does from instinct is never 
isrational ; his was a good remed j as far as it went, and the 
wash tub famished <me as like as possible to it; but you have 
got reason ov^ and aboye, you can go farther than the auk 
mal ; cover up the wound after having thus softened it^ and in 
nine cases out of ten, it will heal without difficulty. 

538. But if the bleeding is excessive^ especially if it appeare 
to stert from one or two particular points^ it may be right to 
apolv to them a litde dossil of lint, and press it down with 
the anger till the bleeding stops ; if it cannot thus be stopped, 
and the blood jumps out by pulses, it becomes necessary to 
prevent it from passing into the part, until the open vessel is 
safely closed. This must be done in the following manner : 
Suppose the cut is in the arm, take a round pincushion, uT 
any thing <^ that form and degree of hardness, place it on 
the middle part, of Uie inner side, of the upper part of the 
arm ; over it, tie a piece of strong tape, leaving room to slip 
underneath, on the opposite side from the cushion, a piece el 
stick, (a cedar pencil will do as well as any thing;} by twist, 
ing tliis round and round, the tape may be tightened till the 
bleeding stops. A piece of stiff leatht;r or folded cloth should 
be {^aced underneath, to prevent the skin being injured by 
the tight twisthig of the tape. In the same manner, if the 
wound is in the leg, this apparatus may be applied to tlie 
hollow part on the inside, and about the middle of the thigh ; 
h^ which the bleeding from any part of the limb below this 
application may be checked, until proper assistance can be 

539. It is very well worth while to make such a process 
Anniliar to your mind ; and to observe, if you have an op. 
portunity, the manner in which a surgeon secures an arm 
after bleeding; it may make you expert in rendering assist, 
ance on a sudden emergency. We sure liable to many acci* 
dents, and many a life has been lost amidst the hurry and 
confusion which arise in the* moment of misifortune, when the 
mind is not prepared with any princij^es on which to act. 
** A man once reaping in a field, cut his arm dreadfully with 
his sickle, and divided an artery," an artery is a large pipe 
Uiroagh which the blood from the heart runs, like water in a 
pipe brought from a reservoir ; you have sometimes seen, in a 
<sky thus supplied, the water spiingin^ suddenly up and de. 
Ifiging the street ; on inquiring into Uie cause, you were \iu 
formed that a pipe had burst, and you understood at once, 
th^t unless the pipe was repaired, as long as tlie reservoir 



irould supply it, the water most continue to €ow. No«r ytit 
the same thing happens when an artery is cut; and unlcsi 
some means can be devised to repair it, the person is in danger 
of bleeding to death; this may haye taken place b^ore a 
surgeon can arrive ; how important then, that every person 
who may witness such an accident, should possess common 
sense and knowledge enough to dictate to them what ought 
to be done ! The pipe in the street is of solid wood, lead, or 
iron ; the only means of stopping the water there, is by plug; 
ging the pipe until the carpenter or the plumber can arriva 
with the necessary tools and materials for stopping it effec* 
tually. But the canal of the blood is of a softer and more 
yielding texture; it may be secured by tying, in the same 
manner as you secure the meat of sausages or black puddings 
from running into one another ; remember this, in case of ac- 
cident, as above described : and do not be distressed for want 
of tape ; aprons have strings ; a cap binder, or even a garter 
will serve the purpose, or a strip may be torn off any garment 
in such an emergency ; and as to the stick, a cedar pencil will 
do, Tas I have already said,) or a stick of sealing wax^ or a 
netting mesh, or a skewer, or a knife handle, or a key, or a 
hundml things that are at hand, if those around have but the 
presence of mind to think of and use them. To return to the 
story, ''the poor man bled profusely, and the people about 
him, both men and women, were so stupified with fright, that 
some ran one way, some another, and some stood stock still. 
In short, he would soon have bled to death, had not a brisk 
stout-hearted girl who came up^ ^ipt off her garter, and bound 
it tight above the wound, by which means the bleeding was 
stopt until proper help could be procured." * 
.. 640. But though there may have been no difficulty in 
stopping the bleeding, the part may become inflamed. The 
best application in this case, is a bread and water poultice ; 
find if the person is also in a feverish state of body, some 
(opening medicine may be necessary, and all heating food must 
be abstained from. If the wound is in such a part as that a 
poultice cannot be conveniently applied, it may be frequently 
fomented with warm water, and dressed twice a day with the 
leaves of the herb plantain, prepared in the same manner as 
•olewort leavers for dressing a blister; they are at once cooi- 
ng, cleansing, and healing. 

^1 . If in consequence of a wound, a gathering should takt 
jJace, and prove obstinate to heal, the difficulty generally 

* Evenings «t Homo, 


tdaes from the state of the hlood^ and it will he hest to ascer. 
tain from a medical gentleman the proper method of rectify « 
ing it. If you have not the means of doing this, you may 
without danger, and most likely with advantage, take the old 
fashioned electuary of brimstone and treacle, and at the same 
time an infusion (or tea) of gentian, or Columba root, or ca- 
momile flowers with cloves ; or if you can afford it, a prepara- 
tion of bark ; and dress the wound twice a day with chewe4 
bread and butter, applied warm from the mouth. 

542. In case of a violent blow, keep rags well wetted with a 
mixtiure of vinegar and water, constantly applied to the part, 
vetting them again as they become dry ; or a piece of tlie 
thickest brown cartridge paper, dipped in spring water and 
bound on the part; keeping it often wetted afresh, will an. 
swer very well. I shall give in the list at the end of this 
chapter, a recipe for bniise oil and ointment, which are very 
valuable to keep in a family ; if applied immediately atler a 
blow, they very soon abate the swelling, remove the tender- 
ness, and disperse the discoloured blood. As some of the 
ingredients ate expensive, it can scarcely be expected that 
cottagers should be able to procure them, unless several 
should unite in the expense ; but perhaps some good person 
in the neighbourhood who can afford, may be induced tp 
make a quantity for the use not only of her own family, but 
of her poor neighbours. 

543. In case of a sprain, let the foot be laid up, (or the 
arm slung,) so that no weight bear upon it, and apply cold, a 
poultice of vinegar and oatmeal, to be renewed twice or thrice 
a day. If the inflammation be considerable, apply five or six 

544. In case of a person's clothes being set fire to, instead 
of throwing open the door and running into the road, (as is 
too often done by the sufferer in the extreme of terror, or by 
those around him, who instead of rendering aid, run out to 
seek it,} it is of the fii^t importance that the person should 
endeavour to command sufficient presence of mind to throw 
himself on the ground, and roll in a carpet, blanket, curtain, 
cloak, coat, or whatever other thick woollen article may be at 
hand. If any other persons are present, tliey should assist in 
doing this, and be particularly carei'ul to keep all doors and 
windows shut. The reason of this is obvious. When vou 
want a fire to draw, you apply the bellows, or set open a door 
to give ii a draft of air; your object in the present case is to 
smother the fiairies, which can in general be most effectually^ 
done m the way pointed out. When persons in theii' inglit 


nin oat of doon, they not only expose themsdres to a coftait 
of air which fiins the flames* but also ran away from thoae 
articles which woold be most likely to extinguish liiem. 

545. Fw a (mm or scald. — The following simple remedy hai 
been found very soccessfiil in giving immediate and permanent 
ralief . After very carefully removing the clothes, shake floor fixnn 
a dredger, and completely cover the injored part ; continae to tb 
BO &om time to time. It will form a coat over the sore, beneath 
which the process of healing will be safely and satis&ctorily 
carried on. -Or the part may be covered with a quantity of 
cotton wool» or mgs steeped in spirits of tarpentine,^-or 
lay on a thick plaster of fresh yeast, renewii^ it as often as 
it becomes hot or dry; or dash the part with cold water in 
which some yeast has been stirred — or with vinegar — or with 
strong brine — or with the Hqoid which runs from potatoes sliced 
thin and sprinkled with salt — or cot a large cucamber in slices 
and lay it on the part — or take half a pint of clear lime water, 
qnarter of a pint of olive oil, and a tablespoon full of spirits of 
turpentine, to be beaten ap into a thin ointment, which is to be 
applied frequently, upon flne rags, or lint, so as to keep tbem 
always moist. 

546. For any' kind of stin^ or venomous bite, — ^Apply flour, oi 
common salt— cucumber, honey, or yeast, as directed ibr a 
burn. If the bite be of a dangerous kind, as that of an adder, 
give immediately a teaspoon full of spirits of hartshorn in a 
wine glass of cold water, and forty drops more, every fifteen 
minutes, tiU the violent symptoms abate, or till medical advice 
is procured ; for a child the dose must be lessened according to 
its age. 

547. For boils , cuts, gatherings, SfC. — ^The following is a very 
useful fiamily plaster. It may be applied as soon as a gatiiering 
is perceived, and renewed twice a day until it is healed. Take 
one pint of sweet oil, and half a pound of red lead ; boil them 
in a ketde over a slow fire until they are well blended, and asF- 
sume a dark colour—^then shake in three ounces of resin finely 
powdered — ^boil again until well incorporated; then take the 
mixture off the fire, and stir in two chachms of gum d^qii — 
and pour it into jars for use. 

548. — To wash Hme or dirt out of the eyes. — ^The eye shoold 
be immediately syringed witii warm water, so as to wash out 
every particle of Hme or mortar, even from undemeadi tbe 
iqjper eyelid, which may be done by setting the point of the 
cryringe (or squirt) under the outer edge of the upper lid ; the 
eye should be kept constantly open, and on no account co- 
irered with a bandage ; but a green shade, like the front of a 


bonnet, may be worn, and the eye frequently fomented with 
water for several days by means of a large sponge. If the 
inflammation should not subside after washing the eye, it will 
be proper to apply five or six leeches as near the eye as pos* 
tible; the person should also take a little coolinir physic 


549. Be attentive to the state of your bowels, both befove 
and after confinement; those who take proper exercise, and 
eat freely of vegetables, are least likely to suffer incouveni* 
ence in this respect ; and if the bowels can be kept properly 
open without medicine, it is all the better. If meaicine is 
necessary, there is nothing more safe or proper than castor 
oil* I know poor people objeet to it on account of its ex« 
pense ; when this is the case, the electuary so often mention^ 
ed. (sulphur, cream of tartar, magnesia, and treacle,) will 
answer very well — or powdered senna mixed with the pulp 
of a roasted apple^^^-or the leaves of senna stewed with figs^ 
rai»nSy or prunes. A person who is on the whole doing well, 
but has had no motion by the second night after her confine^ 
ment, should by all means take something for that purpose* 
The be»t castor oil then is by fer the best medieiue : a desert, 
or a tablespoon lull may be taken, according to her strength; 
ailer this, if she omits any day having a motion, she should 
repeat the dose. 

550. Avoid as much as possible, all noise, bustle and con* 
-fusion ; too often, on such occaaons, a crowd of women aa- 

semble under pretence of giving assistance, but in reality from 
idle curiosity or mean selfishness, who eat, drink, and chatter 
lor their own amusement, while the poor woman is neglected 
and distracted with their impertinent noise, or injured by their 
improper advice. If one, or at most two kind and prudent 
neighboms come in, to wait upon your medical assistant, and 
«o dress your little one when it arrives, that is quite as many 
as can be needful or serviceable, or as ought to be admitted. 
If there were no other reason against having more people 
about, it is an expensive time at best; — ^and why should four 
or five useless people be fed ? 

551. Endeavour as much as possible to dismiss useless anx^ 
ieiy. You cannot get up, aad do your work, and clean your 
house, and sec to your children as usual ; your anxiety wil. 
do them no good, and may very seriously injure yourself, 
lyay indeed prove the means of keeping you back much 
longer from returning to your usual duties. If you have a 
kind and tender husband, he will as much as possible reieast 


you of your anxieties, and meet your wishes ; and some kind 
neiglibour for whom you have done, or are willing to do a 
like service, will give an eye to your children. You must en. 
deavoar to compose your mind, casting all your care upon 
God,' whose tender mercies are over all his works ; commune 
with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. If you 
attend to this ac^vice, it may prove truly beneficial to you in 
more senses than one. 

d52. Do not have your chamber kept too hot, or your bed 
orerloaded with clothes. This would both produce fever, 
and render you more liable to take cold, instead of prevent, 
ing it If your room is close, let the door be now and then 
opened for a few minutes to change the air ; or let the bed 
curtains be undrawn, except so far as is necessary to exclude 
the light ; at the same time be careful to avoid sudden chills 
or draifls of air ; avoid also, touching or using any linen that 
has not been thoroughly well aired; and let the most scru^ 
pulous attention be paid to cleanliness in every respect 

653. Abstain from all improper indulgence. When one ig. 
norant neighbour recommends a bason of good strong beer 
caudle to comfort you ; and another a bit of meat and a drop 
of beer to nourish you ; and another a glass of spirits and 
wato" to keep you from taking cold the first time you get out 
of bed or so ; be assured they are all in an unintentional con^ 
spiracy (if I may be allowed the expression) against your 
life. In a lying-in room, which a doctor has just left, afler 
giving strict injunctions against these improper indulg- 
ences, did you ever hear an expression like the following: 
* Ah well, he may say what he has k mind to it, and I will do 
what I have a mind to it?' I have; aiid I have seen the 
worst consequences follow such a determination. Now only 
think a moment, what should induce your medical attend, 
ant to lay down such a course of diet for you, if he did 
not really think and know that it was for your good P It is 
no diflferenee to him what vou eat and drink ; he will not hav« 
to pay for it, or to sufiTer for it ; but he is anxious, for your 
comfort and that of your family, as well as for his own credit, 
to get you well and strong as soon as possible, and he gives 
you such directions aA he thinks will conduce to that end. Be- 
fides, consider the treatment recommended to you isjust thik 
same as that followed by the highest ladies in the land ; thosv 
who have every delicacy at command, and to whom expense 
is no object — take nothing for seveml days stronger than plain 
gruel, tea, milk, bread and butter, or biscuits; depend upou 
It- thev have the best advice, and follow the^best system thai 


18 known. People in hamUe life would be proud if they eould 
catch the pattern of a baby's cap from such ladies, or could 
in any way imitate their finery and grrandeur ; here is a way 
then, in which their fashion may be imitated to the best ad- 
rantage^ and at the least expense. Think again; we $ome^ 
times hear of the death of women in childbed ; happily thesa 
cases are yery rare, in comparison of the numbers who do 
well ; but of those who die, very few indeed die in immediata 
consequence of their delivery ; a large proportion do well for 
a few days, but fall off in consequence of some mismanage- 
ment or improper indulgence, and then perhaps the blame 
is laid upon the doctor. How often and cruelly do we hear 

It said, * Mrs. is dead, whom Mr. ' attended.' 

His professional character is unjustly injured, and he perhaps, 
from delicacy to the feelings ot her afflicted family, forbears 
to say what he knows to be true, that her death was occasion, 
ed by counteracting his directions and endeavours. Surely 
your life is too valuable and important to your family, to b# 
hazarded for want of a little self-denial ; and I assure you I 
should > think my labour in writing this little book well re. 
paid, if it should prove the means of saving to her family 
some valuable wife and mother, by inducing her to adopt a 
safe and rational course in her confinement On the tnird 
day the milk usually begins to flow, and is settled in its re. 
gular order by the fifth or sixth ; until this important period 
18 satisfactorily past, there is always danger of fever ; if food 
of a heating kind be allowed, especially any stimulating li. 
quors, such as beer, wine, or spirits, the milk, instead of flow, 
ing easily, will be obstructed, hardness of the breast may ba 
occasioned, and even fever in the brain. Who, for the saka 
of a moment's indulgence of the palate, would hazard all tltis 
danger and su fleering p I wish I could gain my poinl^ and prs. 
vail on you to be content with the most simple food, such as I 
have above stated, until the milk flows freely, and the child 
sucks as freely; then I shall be happy to see you enjoy a 
little broth, or a light pudding ; in a day or two more, a bit 
of plain roast or boiled meat, and after about the tenth or 
twelfJi day, but not sooner, a little home brewed beer. This 
mode is recommended in ordinary cases ; where there is any 
an usual weakness, and a more nourishing diet is required, tha 
liiedical attendant will of course direct accordingly. 

d54. Do not presume too much upon your strength, or tax ri 
too far. 1 have heard some women boast of being down stair* 
in a day or two, and some are even mad enough to stand at the 
Hash tub; I have known women eat a large bason of strong 


brotli imttiedialwly after tbeif confinement; 1 have knu^n 
Clieai^ even, to sup off* a link of hog puddiug^s, and drink beer 
the next night, and any tbey were not a bit the worse for it ; 
chat May be, but there is a tme saying, ' die pitcher may go 
often to the well and be broken at last' All this is very inu 
nmdent and very wrong ; a woman ought to be thankful kir 
her safe delivcfy, and inlling to tdce every proper care A»- 
her comple;e recovery. If her husband is what he ought to 
be, he will not, I am 8are» require, or if he can prevent it, aL 
k»w snch inqiroper exertions; it is no saving at all, to put 
forward exertions beyond her strength; and if they are so 
very poor, that they cannot afford to pay any one for attend, 
ing a few days to her fiunily duties^ and no kind neighbour, 
ridi or poor, is willing to do it for the pleasure of doing good, 
much as I would wvh to promote a spirit of independence 
among the labonrmg classes, I should say it was really theii 
duty m such a case to accept the asmstance of the parish, 
mther than expose the mother's life and health to dangec 
The more a woman is kq>t in a lying posture for the first 
nine or ten days, the better; and I will answor for her being 
stronger and moie able to discharge her duty to her family at 
die month's end, or even at the fortnight's «id, by attention 
to this rule, than she would be in six weeks if ^e wantonly 
exerted her strength during the first days of her confinement, 
^dd. I have already given some hints osk the mcmagemeut 
of the breasts, (see par. 466.) so shall only add a few obaerva* 
dons here. Keep a warm doth or flannel constantly over the 
bosom firom the period of delivery ; let the infant be put to 
the breast early — ^as soon as possible after its birth, within a 
lew hours at latest If you should find any little hardness or 
lump under the arm, keep the breast gently shaken about 
rather than rubbed ; or you may apply colewort, or plantain 
leaves, or a little ssdlad oil and rum just under the arm, and 
where you feel the fiilnen; or great relief may be obtained by 
a fomentation of poppy heads and camomile flowers^ but as 
1 observed before, great care is requisite to guard against 
taking cold. If your nipples are sore^ or chapped, be carefid 
to wipe them dry with a soft cloth after the child has sucked^ 
and tuen scatter on them a little gum aralac, finely powdered 
Hud sifted through a muslin rag ; or rather, get a small limpet 
«hell, (the children often have them to play with — something 
Ihe shape of a bason or funnel, only very small ;) put in this 
a littte ver^ stijfgum water, and fix it on your nipple ; it will 
in a manner glaze the part, and defend, as well as heal it All 
sils and ointments do harm rathnr than good to the nipple^ 


tliere are medicines which tend to heal the nipple, hut which 
vould be injurious to the child, and it is necessary to wash 
them off everv time before the child sucks, and therefoi>e wfe 
do not choose to mention them ; if they must be used, let h 
be by good advice. This is not the case with what has beeli 
here recommended ; the gum is perfectly harmless, and even 
irholesome. Those who have been formerly liable to sort 
Qipples, should for several weeks before their confinement, ajk. 
ply to them, cloths dipped in strong brine which has been 

566. Do not afler the first few days, abstain from eating 
vegetables, under the idea that they will disorder the milk; 
this is qMte a false notion ; what is wholesome and proper for 
you, is equally so in preparing milk for your child; very 
often, for want of a proper mixture of vegetable food, the 
milk becontes heating, tl^ nipple is made sore, and the child 
disordered. • 

557. If, after all your care, you should be troubled with 
what is called a bad breast, that is, if there be inflammation, 
hardness, and pain, which there is reason to believe cannot be 
removed without suppuration, (or drawing to a head and 
breaking,) it must be promoted by poultices; either a bread 
«nd water poultice applied warm, or if that be not sufficiently 
drawing, a linseed poultice is generally recommended. I ra- 
Iher prefer a ^g, or onion poultice, or the following one madfe 
of common herbs, which has this advantage, that if it be not 
absolutely necessary to bring it to a head, this poultice will 
iissist it in dispersing : Get the inner rind of elder, and of thfe 
lenaale, or blossoming elm ; mallow, groundsel, plantain, and 
bottseleek, (or sillgreen,) of each a handful; have ready a 
saucepan with about a quart of boiling Mater, put them in, 
niakc it boil up quickly, and boil till the herbs are tender, juSl 
w you would greens ; then strain it off, save the liquor, chop 
np the h«'bs fine; the elder and elm rind, except just in tht 
spring of tlie year, will be too harsh to chop up, but all the 
others will easily ; take a pai t of the liquor, and boil a larg« 
piece of crumb of bread till quite swollen and tender ; stir in 
* part (tf the herbs, and a scrape of fat raw bacon, and apply 
Ihis poultice warm to the breast. The quantity of herbs and 
liquor will serve three or four times. 

558. If any unpleasant symptom* should occur in tl& 
oourse of your confinement, leading you to suspect that you 
bave taken cold, or are in any respect not going on quilt 
^\1, take th6 earliest opportunity of informing the gentleman 
^}u)att»Mled you. But if he sboiiid happen to reside at a dir 


ta&e^ or any delay occur in sending for him, you cannot 40* 
better when seized with pain and shivering, than to drinir 
fieely of weak camomile tea, which will as soon as any thing 
throw you into a gentle perspiration, and carry off pain and 
fever. I say nothing about fomentations, because there is 
great danger of taking cold, unless they are particularly weQ 
managed. If you should appear to have taken cold, without 
any considerable degree of fever, and that you are chilly, 
•hivering, and cold in the feet, you might perhaps venture te 
take a small dose of Godfrey's cordial, not neglecting the ca. 
momile tea as well, fiut I repeat what I have all along said, 
get medical advice if you can. 

d59. When yon get about again, be on your guard botk 
against taking cold and fatiguing yourself by over-exertion, 
especially lifting great weights; remember, ' fair and sofUy 
goes far;' and two steps surely taken, are better than ten and 
a stumble. 


560. Means t4> be used for the recovery of stilLbam inL 
fonts. — This accident may arise from various causes, and r&. 
quire some slight difference of treatment, according to diC 
ft rent circumstances, which it would be improper here ta 
point out But in general, if such an accident occurs, and 
immediate access cannot be had to professional skill, those 
on the spot will not err in observing the following directions. 
First, The infant should be immersed in blood- warm water, 
with its head placed uppermost Second, The lungs are 
to be filled with air, by blowing through a quill, or any other 
ready contrivance, applied to one nostril, the other nostril and 
the mouth being carefully shut; at the same time the chest 
must be gently pressed with the hand. Third, This artificial 
action of the lungs is to be continued till the motion of the 
heart may be perceived, and a beginning attempt to breathe; 
then tlie pressure upon the chest should be discontinued, 
and the blowing into the nostril only occasionally repeated 
Fourth, But if these means should not succeed in restoring 
motion to the heart, the infant must be taken out of the wa. 
ter, placed before the fire, carefully rubbed and wrapped in 
warm flannel. Fiflh, The temples, nostrils, and round tlie 
lips, may be gently toucheil with a feather, dipped in aether, 
or spirits of hartshorn, or in the juice of an onion ; a little 
spirits rubbed on the breast ; and the buttocks, and soles of the 
feet, slapped witli the palm of the hand. Direction fifth mu4t 
not be adopted, if the child appears pale and discoloured; in 


inch a case the use of every thing irritatiiig must be carefully 

. 661. Weak e^es, — 1 hese are often occasioned by exposure 
t» drafts of air, or to large fire, or strong light; all these musi 
\it carefully avoided. Let the mother frequently milk into 
dhe eyes, or let them be irashed twice or thrice a day with 
warm milk and water. 

562. Red gum, — Most children a few days after their birth 
threw out a number of small distinct red spots rising a little 
above the skin. This is seldom attended with injury to the 
child, ajtd only requires *^ common precautions of avoiding 
cold, and keeping the h v^els in proper order. If the skin 
should become yellow all over, and the child appear drowsy 
and not inclined to suck, it will be necessary to seek medical 
advice for it. 

563. The thrush, or sore mouth, — This disease of infants ift 
not nearly so common now as formerly, when both mother 
and infant were dosed with hot wines, spices, caudle, and 
other feverish and improper diet ; it seldom occurs where 
both are properly treated. If the child should discover un- 
easiness in sucking, or the mother's nipple become sore, it 
will be proper to examine the mouth, in which, if it have ther 
thrush, will be seen small white spots, resembling curdled 
milk; they begin on the tongue, and in the comers of the 
mouth, and inside of t^e cheeks, and spread over the palate 
and throat, as far as can be seen ; the child generally suffera 
from gripes, and frequent stools of an unnatural appearance^ 
and which occasion great soreness of the pa^t. While the 
^K>ts are white, no attempt should be made to get them off. 
M*. the child can suck, no food whatever should be given it 
besides die breast ; but a teaspoon full of the following liquid 
may be often put into its mouth. The white of a raw egg 
beat up with a little fine loaf sugar powdered, and mixej 
with two or three tablespoons full of cold water; or it hat 
been found very successful to wash the mouth frequently 
with liquor made in the following manner : Take a turnip or 
two^ and an equal weight of mutton, cut them up into small 
peces, and stew a long time in a small Quantity of water. 
This is both cleansing, heahng, and nourishing, and is parti, 
cularly useful wh^n a child is very weakly, or cannot suck; 
It is also very useful when a grown person in illness has, oi 
is supposed, to have the thrush; about which there wai> for. 
merly a superstitious notion that it was a certain forerunner oi 
death, which notion has often led to a neglect of proper 
meana. As a proof how unfounded it is, the writer of tbesa 


pftges has twice had the thrudi since cniWhood, and is still 
Siye to tell it A child who has the thrush must be kefK 
very clean, washed twice a day with Warm water, and fulleraP 
earth applied as directed, par. 470, 471. In three or foar 
days the spots turn yellow ; the mouth may then be g^^ 
rubbed with a little borax, finely powdered, and mixed wi& 
about eight times its weight of honey, or fine sugar. If the 
mouth sliould become so much crusted that the child cannot 
suck, it should be fed with warm cow's milk, not tiuckened; 
but to six spoonfuls of milk, may be added half a one of 
white wine, and the mother should have her breasts drawn for 
a day or two. Half a drachm of manna may be given, dis- 
solved in a little warm water; or four grains of calcined m;^ 
uesia, that is, about as much as will cover a sixpence. 

664. Stuffing of the head, or muffles, — Avery trooblesom« 
oomplaint, which reiidere it difficult for a chiW to breallie or 
suck. It has been abeady observed, par. 469. that children 
whose heads are daily washed, if properly taken care of in 
other respects, are seldom liable to this complaint; when it 
occurs, a little sallad oil, or fi-esh butt«-, should be rubbed om 
the bridge of the nose at nighty which will loosen the filth, and 
admit of its being ihoroughly cleansed in the morning. 

665. OppressioH of the ch^st and hoarseness.^— There is aa 
did fashioned remedy for this complaint, which has never yet 
been proved a bad one. It is a plaster of coarse bix)wn paper> 
spread with deer's suet, or old tallow, and dipped in rum ; at 
the same time giving occasionally, a teai^K>on full, or desert* 
spoon full, according to the child's age, of syrup of violets, 
and oil of sweet almonds. )^ If these should not afibrd speedy 
relief, it may be necessary to apply a leech or two to the 
chest; but on this you will seek better advice ; however, ppe*. 
vention is better than cure. If proper attention were paid to 
the hints suggested^ (par. 479.) we should not hear of half ths 
infants sufieringand dying of inflammation of the lungs. 

666. Sickness, — Infants are very apt to throw up the milk, 
and when they do so without turning pale, or becoming ui^ 
f^y> or ^e breath smelling sour and disordered, it ia of n0 
bad consequence ; at the same time it affords an opportunity 
of c^serviug that they ought not to be allowed to suck too 
much at a time ; and that when in proi{>eet of weaning they 

aaoniaTwili *^ *^ *^^ ounces of this mixture, one drachm of anti- 
^'hlch nmv «L wi *^^^ ^ ^^^ resolved not to mention any drum 
*««^ whetSTi ^ ^^ mischief, or any but those thai are in ercrt 
waeiner I menOon them or not. 


begin to be fed, a very smalJ quantity of food should be given 
•t a time, and that, not just before or after sucking. Su-k. 
Beas at the stomach in young infanU, is sometimes occasioned 
b^y a disordered state of the milk, or by having taken food that 
remains undigested. Nurses should carefully avoid all violent 
^ssions and agitations of the mind, a too long contoeme^t 
9{ the milk, and such food aus is unwholesome for themselves, 
and, as they find by experience, renders the milk unwhole- 
«ome ; such, for instance, as veal or pork underdone, pickled 
vegetables, or cold sour unripe fritits, Wbi&n an infant be» 
comes suddenly pale, with a blackness round the mouth, dull. 
ness of the eyes, and the flesh cold an.d 6abby, if the mother 
feels conscious that in some way b^ milk may be disordered« 
even though the child should not attempt to retch, she may 
be sure that it must do so before it can. be relieved^ and should 
endeavour to promote it. Sometimes this may be done^ by 
merely setting the child upright or rather stooping forwara, 
rubbing the stomach, and keeping it it) gentle motion ; but U 
ill a few minutes the child should not be relieved either by vo. 
miting or stool, it will be proper to give it a teaspoon full of 
ipecacuanha wine, and repeat it in ten minutes if the first 
have not operated. If after tlie secoiwi dose, the uneasiness 
should continue, and yet vomiting not be produced, she should 
give it the breast. If it will suck, most likely the whole con^ 
lents of the stomach will be speedily discharged, and the in- 
fant presently relieved. It is very likely, however, that it/i 
bowels will be afterwards disordered, and require the same at- 
tention as will be directed in the next paragraph* 

567. The liowels of infants being very tender, are often dis- 
ordered in different ways. Sometimes thtey suffer from vio- 
lent colic pains. In this case the feet are drawn up, the child 
screams excessively, and discovers grea«t pain on being toq^Ji. 
ed, ever so tenderly, about tlie belly. Thi« complaint is some, 
times occasioned by cold, or by suffering tlie clothes to remain 
on when they become wet ; sometimes by the quantity of uu,^ 
suitable food given to children, especially when the food i| 
much sweetened. Sugar is very apt to turn sour in the sto. 
Bach of an infant, and to produce green coloured, sour siqelU 
ing stools, especially if it have been warmed in the food. OJ 
course it is natural, that those cliildren who live most wholly 
upon the breast of an healthy mother, and are most con- 
stantly under the care of an attentive and judicious mother^ 
are least liable to these distressing pains However, whe« 
the disease occurs, if it. be shght, give a dose of castor oil,; 


ihLi alone will frequently give relief; if it should noty there i 
BO better medicine than Dalby's carminative. 

568. And now, having mentioned this medicine, let me say 
a word of the use and abuse of it. i have no doubt but tt 
has done harm in the world ; I am certain it has done g^ood. 
Some nurses, whenever a child is restless and uneasy, fly at 
once to remedies of this kind, by which improper use they 
become in fact useless; the child cannot be quiet or sleep 
without them, and in time, cannot sleep with them. This 
does not do away the fact of Dal by 's being a good and 
valuable medicine. The regulations under which I would 
have it used, are. First, Not without real occasion. Second, 
When that occasion exists, let it be given in a proper dose^ 
and persevered in till it has effected a cure. Third, Then let 
it be entirely laid aside. By half doing things, people are al- 
ways doing them ; and thus it often happens, that instead of 
having recourse to medicine in a case of emergency, the use 
of it grows into a habit 

669. Under a violent fit of pain of the kind described, 1 
have often seen great relief afforded by the use of the warm 
bath. Indeed it is so generally serviceable in case of violent 
pain, or sudden illness of almost any kind, the cause of which 
IS not immediately known, that no house where thero. are 
young children should at any time be without hot water. It 
has been the means of saving many a life in infancy. It may 
also be of service, in violent pains of the bowels, to rub the 

Eart gently with a little spirits, or liniment, in the palm of the 
and before a fire. 

570. Some children suffer from costiveness. During in. 
fancy, from two to four motions a day are proper ; but if a 
child have regularly one proper evacuation, and is thriving 
a ad hearty, it will not be needful to interfere ; less than this 
ought not to be suffered without an attempt to procure it. 
Castor oil is as good a medicine as any for this purpose ; or 
the laxative syrup mentioned in the list at the end of tfaii 
chapter — or a small piece of yellow soap may be introduced 
in the same manner as the apparatus for an injection — or • 
•tiff parsley stalk, on the ehd of which has been rubbed a hk 
o£ butter or lard. 

571. Sometimes children are troubled with a looseness; if 
tills (as is often the case) be occasioned by teething, it will bt 
right to give the child a laxative medicine, as rhubarb aiuf 
magnesia, or castor oil. If it appears that the stomach ai 
well as the bowels are out of order, it may be well first t« 


give an emetic, tben a dose of castor oil^ and then Dalby's 

carminatiYe, according to the directions, until the disorder h 

i quite removed. The same course may be observed, omitting 

! ^e ^netic^ when an infant passes clay coloured stools of a 

most oflTensive smell ; its bowels also should be gently rubbed 

with spirits or soap liniment. When children are at all» or in 

any way disordered in the bowels, there are three things that 

! lequire especial care, viz. First, To avoid cold. Second, Diet 

' S'hird, Cleanliness. The best food they can take, if they mu«t 

, have any beside the breast, is either arrowroot, or a piece of 

top crust of bread, (quite free from crumb,) boiled a long time 

' in water, with a small bit of cinnamon ; it should boil till it 

becomes a perfect jelly, and be sweetened with loaf sugar. 

; When a chUd who is griped suffers unusual pain in passing 

; its stools, the following will be found beneficial. Dissolve ona 

I ounce of gum arabic in a small quantity of water, and fre- 

I quently give the child a little warm milk, mixed with as much 

of the gum as will make it taste rich and sticky ; it may ba 

sweetened with a little loaf sugar. 

672. Of Teething, — All children suffer more or less durmg 
die period of teething. But their sufferings are often increas. 
ed, and even their lives endangered by improper management ; 

; such as feeding them upon strong heating meat, or even highly 
sweetened food, and allowing them to drink beer, wine, or spi. 
rits. Most children who have been thus treated, die either 
while cutting their teeth, or under the attack of diseases which 
must be expected for all children, measles, hooping cough, &c. 
The best general direction that can be given on behalf %}( 
teething children, is, that particular attention be paid to their 
general health ; that they be properly managea in point of 
air, exercise, cleanliness, and food ; that the bowels be kept 
r^;u]arly open, and that every thing of a heating or irritating 
nature be carefully avoided. 

673. As to particular symptoms. If a child is in violent 
pain, and very feveiish in consequence of teething, it will pro. 
bably be relieved by putting it into a warm bath. If he can 
be induced to take hold of any thing, a piece of wax candle, 
frei^ liquorice root, crust of bread, or an ivory or hone ring^ 
should be put into his hand, with which he may rub the gums, 
and thus assist the tooth in forcing its way through. If tbs 
child will not do it himself^ the mother should gently nak 
die gums with her finger, and a little honey or syrup of Kif 

674. If the child be very weak, and his bowels disordered, 
ks ought to be fed twice a day with beef tea. taken out as 


much as possible in the open air when the weather will adnati 
washed plentifully with cold water, and sponged with cold 
water and vinegar. 

675. A Burgundy pitch plaster is sometknea serviceaUe^ 
worn between the shoulders the ^^hole time of teething. 

576. It b often necessary to lance the gums; this is but a 
momentary (^ration^ and often affords inmiediate rehef. 

577. If the child should not only be rery feverish, but 
drowsy and heavy in his head, some opening medicine nmst 
be given ; and if, after its operation, and the use of the warm 
bath, relief is not obtained, a leech or two, according to the 
Iti^ngth of the child, may be applied under the ear. It may 
be necessary to apply a blister on the nape of the neck ; but 
if a child should suffer so much as to require these remedies, 
in all probability medical advice will be sought, and it is need, 
less for me to give any farther directions. 

578. Of Convulsions, — ^When an infant suddenly turns 
pale, his eyes and features distorted, hb limbs agitated, or 
suddenly stretched out, his hands ck nched, and he sometimes 
lies in a lifeless miserable state ; at others violently scream, 
ing : — ^in such a distressing case, the first thing to be done, is 
completely to strip the infant, and carefully examine evary 
part of his person, in order to ascertain whether the illness 
may arise from any accidental cause Then as quickly as 
possible put him into a warm bath, as warm as the hand can 
easily bear ; if he does not soon recover, some spirits of harts, 
horn may be added to the water. If ^e vessels of the neck 
appear full, and the stomach oppressed, a wetted feather 
iiiould be forced into the upper part of the throat, so as if 
possible to produce vomiting. The warm bath in general aL 
fords alleviation, and therefore should always be resorted to 
iritliout delay, especially if the fit is attended with paleness 
%nd chills ; but if the skin be burning hot, relief is sometimes 
Stained by sponging the face and neck with cold water and 

579. When the fit is off, the child's mouth should be ex- 
amiiiO<i, and the gums lanced 3ver those teeth which appear 
tlie most advanced ; some opening medicine should be given ; 
and amber oil, or oil and hartslioni, rubbed over the back 
bone every six or eight hours. 

58 ). When a child has a severe inflammatory cold, au 
emetic should be given; its bowels kept property open; it 
should be put in a warm bath every night while the cold \a»ts> 
and sliould be rubbed with amber oil ovei* the sides of the 
oliest eveiy six or eight hours. 


$81. !f%e Croup. — The croup generally begins in a hoarse 
harking cough ; afterwards an alarming difficulty of breathing 
comes on at nighty and the breathing and cough are attended 
#ith a peculiar kind of sound; a great quantity of thick phlegm 
is collected^ which can seldom be thrown off. As this is a 
Tery fatal complaint^ and oflen very rapid in its progress, pro. 
per advice should be sought on the hrst appearance of it; 
but when that cannot be had, if a child has discovered the 
slightest degree of the above symptoms, care should be taken 
to have warm water in tlie house, and a light burning. There 
should also be close at hand, a little of the very coarsest brown 
sugar^ mixed with fresh butter. If the child wakes with hoarse, 
ness, cough, or difficulty of breathing, give a teaspoon full of 
this mixture; it will very possibly soften the throat, loosen 
the phlegm, and thus give relief; if so, it may be repeated 
through the night as often as occasion requires ; if it should 
occasion sickness, it will be all the better. It often has given 
immediate relief in a croupy cough and cold, which though 
not nearly so dangerous as the true croup, have sometimes 
been mistaken for it, and occasioned great distress and alarm 
to parents, especially if at a distance from medical advice. If 
these simple means should not afford relief, the child should be 
put into a warm bath, and after remaining in for at least ten 
minutes, should be rubbed perfectly dry, wrapped in flannel, 
and put to bed in a moderately warm room. If the butter 
and sugar have not produced vomiting, or if evident relief has 
not been afforded, some medicine should be immediately given 
which will both vomit and purge. Calomel is the most ap« 
proved and efficacious, but it is too hazardous to be recom. 
mended in a work like this. An emetic of antimonial wine, 
and a dose of castor oil, if those medicines are within reach^ 
may be ventured upon; but, let it be repeated, only under the 
absolute impossibility of obtaining proper advice. If upon 
vomiting being produced, relief is obtained, it will not be ne- 
cessary to use any otlier powerful means ; but if this should 
not be the case, several leeches, and afterwards a blister, must 
be applied to the chest While the disease lasts, if the child 
be not weaned, he should take nothing besides the breast; 
otherwise nothing more than liquids, such as barley water, 
apple or orange whey, milk and water, or toast and water ; as 
he recovers, the food must be of a more nourishing kind, but 
given in small quantities^ and often repeated ; arrowroot, sago, 
milk thickened with isinglass; and when all fever has ceased, 
chicken broth or b^ef tea Great care must be taken to avoid 
cold and damp, 



582. Tliere is a complaint yery much resembling the (iroap, 
to which some children are liable during teething ; a crowing 
noise very much like that of croup co'nes on suddenly, and 
the child appears in danger of suffocation, but tlie cough, if 
tLiij, is not hoarse, and the breathing between whiles is free ; 
by these marks it may be distinguished from the regular croup. 
The best method to pursue in this case is, to watch the gnms^ 
and lance them as required ; to open the bowels freely, with 
ial polychrest, or rhubarb and magnesia; to give Dalby'a 
carminative every four or five hours ; and to rub the outsicfe 
of the throat every six hours with oil of amber, or oil and 

583 Teething children are frequently liable to a disagree* 
able breaking out over the face; a like circumstance some, 
times follows measles, or any other complaint of a lowering 
tendency. In either case proper attention must be paid to 
the general health ; but for an application to the part, nothing 
is more safe and efficacious than tripe liquor; it should be ob. 
tained from the tripe boilers, fresh and wai-m, as oflen as pos. 
sible ; this will be perhaps twice or three times a week ; what 
remains after the first using must be kept in a cool place, and 
a little made warm for use when required. The part afifected 
should be well washed at least every night and morning. 

584. The same application it is believed will be found use. 
ful in that very troublesome complaint called ringworms on 
the head ; the head must be kept closely shaved, and a cap 
of oiled silk worn. There are many remedies extolled for 
these troublesome complaints ; but some of them are confess, 
edly of a dangerous nature, and ought not to be trusted in 
unskilful hands ; and others, the composition of which is con. 
cealed, are probably at least as much so. If safe and simple 
means, of which cleanliness is one of the most essential, do 
not succeed, it is better to seek regular advice. 

585. Chilblains. — To avoid them, be careful never to sit in 
wet shoes — never to come near the fire when very cold — to 
take plenty of exercise, and, if needful, to wear gloves and 
socks of oiled silk or wash leather. If they appear, let them 
be rubbed every night with soap liniment, or with a red onion 
cut in half, and sprinkled thickly with common salt. If they 
break, let a thin plaster of the following ointment be applied 
once or twice a day. One ounce of deer's suet or hog's lard, 
one ounce of bees' wax, and half an ounce of oil of turpentine, 
melted and stirred well toge Jier. 

486. Worms. — To prevent them, avoid unwholesome food, 
csjeciary, in infancy a sloppy pap often givcoi to chiidrexii 


made by sopping bread in tea, or hot ivater^ and gene, 
rally sweetening it most unmercifully; and for children, oil 
sweet or sour trash, gingerbread, sugarplumbs, uniipe fruits, 
&c. If a child is suspected of having worms, give it six or 
eight common nusins every morning fasting ; after some days, 
give it a dose of sal polychrest according to its age, and in 
three days anotlier; or if it be preferred, castor oil or senna 
tea will answer the latter purpose. Tea made of rue, camo- 
mile flowers, or worm crude, are beneficial ; but it is very di£. 
ficult to get children to take them in sufficient quantity, and 
with perseverance enough to do much good. I have heard 
the following recipe for the cure of worms strongly recom^ 
mended, but never having tried it myself, can sa) but little 
about it. Twenty grains of worm seed, and twenty grains of 
rhubarb, well mixed in a tea-cup full of treacle ; a tablespoon 
full to be given every morning early and fasting ; continue 
£3r a week, then leave off a week, then go on again till al 
symptoms of wonns have ceased. 

687. Measles. — When a child appears heavy, drowsy, and 
feverish, sneezes often, the eyes and nose run, and are red 
aiid inflamed, it may be su])posed that he is sickening for the 
measles. The first thing to be done, is to clear out his sto- 
mach and bowels, by means of an emetic and purgative suited 
lo his age ; after which, he should be put into a warm bath, 
carefully dried, and kept in bed. It is necessary that he 
should be kept in one temperature, or degree of warmth, but 
it is sot necessary or beneficial that that should be at all 
warmer than is agreeable to a person in health. In cold 
weather a small fire in the room may be desirable, but it 
would be improper when the weather is warm ; the light 
should be shaded from th»? eyes, T which are extremely ten. 
der,) but curtains should not be orawn round the bed. No 
solid food must be thought of, but plenty of warm drink 
given, such as barley water, bran tea, orange or apple whey, 
grit gruel, &c. The measles appear at first on the breast, 
back, and forehead; they resemble flea bites, and are not 
raised above the skin; they gradually spread over the vhole 
skin, and about two days after tliey have so spread, begin to 
change to a brownish red^ which continues distinct during the 
third day; after that it gradually turns pale, and the skin 
becomes covered with branny scales, like fine oatmeal. Some* 
times there is a great degree of hoarseness, cough, and diffi. 
culty of breathing, and generally considerable fever. If the 
fever should be high, with tightness and pain in the forehead, 
and dryness of the throat, gi*eat relief is o^len aflbrded, by 


drawing in the steam of hot irater. The warm bath may lie 
frequently used, at least every night ; and between whiles the 
steam may be drawn in, as recommended for a sore throat. 
If the cough and oppression of the chest are considerable, 
another and more active purgative must be given, and a 
blister applied on the chest. It was formerly common to 
bleed in measles, but is very seldom practised now; this 
is mentioned to guard you against applying leeches, unless 
roBsidered absolutely neicessary by a skilful medical man. 
The measles of themselves tend very much to weaken the 
frame and impoverish the blood, and this effect had not need 
be aggravated. When the eruption begins to decline, die 
skin should be sponged two or three times a day with warm 
milk and water, and two or three doses of physic should be 
given at the distance of every third or fourth morning. The 
ibod must now be light, yet nourishing; milk, with isinglass 
or gum arable, puddings, and if there be little or no cough, 
beef tea, and a small quantity of meat. A mutton chop lightly 
broiled, or a slice out of a joint of roast mutton, b the best meat 
that can be given to an invalid. If the child be w^eak, as is 
almost always the case, it will be right to give him strength, 
ening medicines, (as mentioned in the list,) and a small quan- 
tity of port wine every day. To a child five years old and 
upwards, may be allowed a tablespoon full of wine, in which 
he should dip a bit of bread or biscuit. It does much more 
good so, than hastily drank off. A child recovering from ilL 
ness, will be greatly relieved and strengthened by being fr-e- 
quently sponged with cold water and vinegar. 

588. The scarlet fever very much resembles the measles, 
and requires in ordinary cases much tJie same treatment. If 
the heat of the skin be very great, it may be frequently sponged 
with cold water and vinegar. If the throat is sore, it should 
be frequently gargled ; and if the head is very much affected, 
a leech or two, according to the age of the child, may be ap. 
plied to each temple. The physicing and strengthening may 
be carried on the same as in the measles. These directions 
will suffice in slight attacks; where the disease appears vio* 
lent, the best medical advice ought to be obtained. 

689. Hooping cougk» — For this disease, gentle emetics should 
be given frequently ; the bowels kept properly open ; the food 
should consist of milk and vegetables ; new flannel should be 
constantly worn next the skin. Garlic ointment, or oO of 
amber, and spirits of hartshorn, should be rubbed every night 
and morning on the back bone, pit of the stomach, soles of 
tike feet, and palms of the hands. The child should not on 


any account be exposed to a keen or damp air; bat change of 
air is very beneficial, if it can be taken without exposure U> 
cold. In the list at the end, see cough drops, half a teaspoon 
full of which (more or less according to its age) may be giy^i 
to a child once or twice a day, particularly at be<l time, in a 
little barley water. Great relief has been obtained in the 
hooping cough by the use of alum, though it does not deserve 
all that has been said of it ; with some children it produces 
decided, and almost immediately beneficial efifects, but with 
others it takes no efiPect at all. For those parents who choose 
to try it, the dose is a grain for each year of the child's age, 
to be given, finely powdered, with a little sugar, or barley 
water, three times a day. Much depends upon its being given 
with regularity and perseverance. 

590. Rickety children are pale, feverish, and bloated, weak 
in the joints, and disproportionately large in the head and 
belly. The too frequent cause of this complaint, is neglect 
of wholesome food, cleanliness, and good nursing. If such be 
the cause, the cure must be chiefly sought in an opposite 
course; a strengthening diet, the cold, or tepid (that is not 

Suite cold) bath, with salt in the water, and dry rubbing of 
1e whole body daily, and plenty of air and exercise. If this 
be not the cause, if the nurse is conscious that she has done 
her duty, and cannot account for the indisposition of her 
child, let her seek the advice of some able professional man. 


691 . Gruel, — The best flavoured and most nourishing gruel, 
is made of grits ; half a pint of grits will make two quarts of 
gruel, and after being stiained off, the grits may be boiled 
again, and will make one quart more. The saucepan should 
be kept particularly nice and clean. The first gruel will take 
about three quarters of an hour to boil, and the second rather 
Jonger ; let it be well stirred to prevent its burning to the bot- 
tom of the saucepan. When strained ofi^, let it be set by in a 
dean vessel, and in a cool place. Gruel should be made fresh 
efvery other day in cold weather, and every day when the 
weather is warm. This gruel, with a little salt, or if preferred^ 
sugar and a little bit of butter, and eaten with toast, bread 
and butter, or dry biscuit, is all that ought to be allowed to 
lying-in women, for the first four or five days. Those who 
insist upon living better generally sufier for it. 

592. If you have no grits in the house, or gruel is wanted 
very quickly, it may be made with oatmeal in the following^ 
*vay. Stir till very smooth, one large spoonful of oatmeal wHh 


two of water, qind poiir it into a pint of water boiling on the, 
five ; stir it well, and boil it quickly, but be careful tliat it doc» 
not buil over ; when it has boiled ten minutes, or a quarter oi 
an hour, strain it off. 

693. Caudle may be made in the same manner, only that 
the oatmeal should be mixed with good, clear, mild beer, and 
stirred into the boiling water, wi& a small pinch of allspice 
finely ground ; and when it has boiled long enough, add, to a 
quart of gruel, a tablespoon full of moist sugar^ aoid a glass of 
gin, stirring it in well. 

594. Rice gruel may be made in the same manner ; or, a^ 
it is generally ordered when the bowels are very much relax^ 
ed, and it is wished to check tJbis tendency — when such is the 
case, it may be made with water only, (as directed for oat, 
meal, par. 592.) a bit of cinnamon ana dried orange peel 
boiled in it^ and when boiled enough, sweetened with loaf, 
sugar, and a tablespoon full of brandy added to a pint of 

595. Flour caudle. — Set over a very clear fire, half a pint 
of new milk, with a bit of cinnamon, and about six good sized 
Lumps of sugar ; rub very smooth two dessert-spoon full of the 
best flour, adding to it by degrees half a pint of water; the 
moment the milk boils, stir into it the flour and water, and 
let it simmer gently over a very clear slow fire for twenty 
minutes, carefully stirring it, or it will be apt to burn. This, 
is a nourishing food, very good for weak bowels, and for in- 
fants; but if it is intended for an infant, the cinnamon should 
in general be omitted. 

596 Barley gruel, — ^Wash four ounces of pearl barley ; boil; 
it in two quarts of water with a stick of cinnamon, till it is re. 
duced to one quart ; strain, and then return it into the sauce, 
pan, with a pint of port wine and some loaf sugar, and stir it 
over the fire two or three minutes. This is a good method of 
administering port wine when it is ordered, for supporting the 
strength under alarming and exhausting disorders. It may 
be re warmed as wanted. Here observe when wine or otlier 
cordials are ordered, those who nurse the sick person, should, 
ask for exact directions as to the quantity to be given, and act 
accordingly. A little may be necessary when more wo*dd be 
injurious. On the other hand, do not be afraid to give what 
a skilful n^edical man directs, though the quantity to you may 
seem excessive ; perhaps it is the only chance of saving lite, 
poctors art not apt to recommend tlie free use of powerfui 
cordials, unless they see an urgent necessity for so doing. 
,^ 597. Panada. — Set on the &re a glass of white wine, witli. 


an eqaal quantity of water, three or four lumps of sugar, 
and a scrape of nutmeg, and lemon peel ; meanwhile grate a 
lai^e tablespoon full of crumbs of bread, and the moment the 
liquor boils, put the crumbs in, and let it boil as fast as it can. 
When it appears well mixed and thickened, take it off. 

598. Or if wine be not proper, boil only water, lemon peel ; 
and sugar ; add the crumbs of bread, and when nearly done 
squeeze in the juice of an orange; but let it all boil, for if any- 
thing, is added after it is taken off the fire, tlic panada bel- 
comes broken and watery. 

699. ArrowrooL^-ln purchasing this, be sure to get the 
best, though you pay a penny an ounce more for it. For 
those who have weak bowels or stomach, it is of the greatest 
consequence that every thing be genuine. Arrowroot may be: 
made with milk, or wiUi wine and water; a large dessert-spoon- 
bill makes half a pint It must be rubbed smooth with a very 
small quantity of cold milk (or water) at first, gradually in. 
creased to about two spoonfuls, and tlien stirred into the re. 
mainder while boiling ; when it boils up, a minute or two will 
do it. If made with milk, it may be flavoured with cinnamon 
or nutmeg, and sweetened With fine moist, or loaf sugar, ac 
cording to the state of the bowels; if they are confined, moist, 
sugar is the best; if relaxed, loaf sugar. If arrow root is to 
be made with wine, a glass of white wine, or a spoonful of 
brandy is the quantity for half a pint. Boil up sugar, water, 
wine, and nutmeg, as directed for panada, and stir in the ar.< 
row root, moistened ^ith a small quantity of cold water. 

600. Sa^o, — The benies should be soaked an hour in cold 
water, then pour that off, and add, to a large tablespoon full 
of sago, a quart of water ; let it simmer gently a long time, 
till the berries are quite tender, and it has become thick ; if 
wine is to be added, put tlie less watev; when it has boiled 
4way to a pint, add two glasses of white wine, and a little le. 
mon peel, or nutmeg and sugar. Boil all up together. 

601. Or boil the same quantity of sago very slowly in a 
quart of new milk, till reduced to about a pint, and sweeten. 
A person who is weak, should stir a spoonful or more of this 
into his tea or coffee, as milk. 

602. Beef tea, — Cut a pound of fleshy beef in thin sliceb. 
Simmer with a quart of water twenty minutes, after it has 
once boiled and been skimmed. 

603. Sliank broth, or jelly, cheap and very nourishing, — 
Soak twelve mutton shanks four hours, then brash and scour 
them very clean ; put them into a saucepan, with one pound 
of lean beef, a crust of bread made very brown by toasting. 


and (if approved) an onion, or any kind of herb for flavonr • 
add lour quarts of water, and let it simmer as gently as pofl». 
ble for five hours, then strain it off. It will be a stiff jelly, 
and keep good several days. 

604. Chicken broth, — In too many houses, the heads and 
feet of chickens are thrown away, cuid the bones also as they 
come from the taUe. Perhaps it may not have occurred 
Mther to the mistress or the cook, that they would afford 
▼aluable nourishment to a poor sick neighbour. There ai« 
many people in the world, good natured but thoughtless; 
could they be brought to consider hor much good they 
might do, without a farthing's expen? they would, very 
Ukely> gladly adopt any hints on the subject. Of every 
boiled chicken (and as we have elsewhere observed of all 
boiled meat) the liquor should be saved ; the heails and feet, 
scalded clean, which will scarcely take a minute to do, and 
boiled with the bones as they come from table, and a toast- 
ed crust of bread ; or the bones of roast chicken, with headsr 
and feet, may be boiled in wat^, but the quantity of course 
must be smaller ; let it boil till the bones become white, then 
strain it off; there will be as much good nourishing broth as 
any sick person can take at two meals> And who would think 
much of the trouble ? I have often seen such things thrown 
to the dogs, by persons who were aflwwards brought into 
such circumstances, as gladly to accept a bason of broth 
made from them. 

605. Of broth in general, — A pound of lean meat, wilt 
make about a quart of broth, not more. If two or three 
kinds of meat are used, the broth is more noinishing, and 
better flavoured; and little trimming bits of beef, veal, and 
mutton, may often be got at the butcher^s very cheap. The 
proportion of water will be tffree pints to each pound of meat, 
to be boiled till reduced to a quart, or rather less. The meat 
will then be good for eating, and the broth fit to strain off; 
an onion, if approved, gives a pleasant flavour, and is never 
improper. The gristly parts of an animal, such as knuckle 
and breast of veal, shanks of mutton, &c. afford the most 
strengthening broth,, but not so rich flavoured as that which 
is made fh)m lean meat, especially from the loin of the ani. 
mal. It is very well if you can, to have part of both. 

606. It is generally directed to let broth stand till cold, in 
order to clearing it of fat; but I think broth is never so nice 
as when fresh made ; and tlie fat may be nearly all removed 
with a spoon, or if any should remain, lay at top a piece ol 
blotting paper, it wiU draw it all up. 


& 7. A very nourislunjr broth against any kind of weak* 
.nesSy eft[wcia]ly alter lying-in, or for elderly people who hare 
weakness in the back, may be made, from two pounds of loin 
of noiutton, (the fet taken off,) boiled with a large handful of 
Ghervil, in two quarts of water, till reduced to one. 

608. Very nourishing broth may be made of fish of almost 
any kind, the more thick skinned and glutinous the better. 
The following is an excellent broth : Half a pound of small 
i:els or grigs ; set them on with three pints of water, an onion, 
a few pe|^)er corns, and some parsley ; let it simmer till the 
eels are broken, and the liquor reduced to one half; then add 
salt, and strain it Some people like a spoonful of vinegar 
added ; and if the bowels be not disordered, there is no objec. 
iion to it 

609. Calved /eei broth. — Boil two feet in three quarts ol 
water till reduced one half, strain it and set it by ; when cold, 
take off the fat, and whan it is to be used, put & large teacufi 
full of the jelly into a saucepan, witli half a glass of mountain, 
,raisiji, or cQWslip wine, and a little nutmeg and sugar ; when 
it nearly boils, have ready the yolk of an egg finely beat; stir 
to it by degrees a little of the jelly, then stir it in altogether, 
out do not let it boil. This is less troublesome and expen^ 
s»ve than caIves.foot jelly, and quite as nomishing. 

6}0^ Meat panada, — Sometimes it is requisite to give ani. 
mal nutriment in a more solid form than that of broth or jelly^, 
when the person has not an appetite for meat ; when that ia the 
.«ase, it may be managed in the followmg manner : Take the 
white meat of chicken, or rabbit, partly, but not thoroughly 
boiled, periiectly clear it from. skin,, shred it as fine as powder, 
/or if yon have a marble mortar, beat it to a paste with a little 
of the liquor it was boiled in ; put a dust of salt and nutmeg, 
and a little scrape of lemon- fAel, simmer it gently a few ml. 
nutes, with as much of the liquor as will bring it to the thiclu 
ne^s of gruel. Roast veal, mutton, or beef, may be shi'ed and 
warmed in the same manner, with a little of the gravy from 
the dish, provided thi^re be no butter in it ; but the white jneats 
are most easily shred. Or it i& a very good way,, when a sick 
person cannot take solid meat,, and yet wants nourishment, to 
lay two or three sippets of toasted bread in the dish with a 
roast joint of meat, and as the gravy runs, to let it drip on 
them till thoroughly moistened. 

61 1 . Gloucester jelly, — Rice, sag^ pearl barley, erinp) root» 
and hartdiom shavingG^ of each one ounce ; simmer m three 
pintfl of water till reduced to one, then strain it; when cold it 
will be a stiff jelly, a spoonful or more of which may be givea 

I 3 


diMoWed in tea, milk, or broth ; or if wine be allowed, warm 
a tablespoon full or two of the jelly with a lump of sugar, and 
add to it a tablespoou full of wine. 

612. WhiU caive^ feet jdly, — Bake two calvesf feet, with a 
quart of new milk and a quart of water, in ajar closely co- 
vered, three hours and a half; when cold remove the fat ; it 
may be flavoured with lemon peel or cinnamon : and if it is 
to be eaten cold, may be sweetened with loaf sug^r when it 
comes out of the oven ; but if it is to be rewarmed whea 
eaten, it had better be sweetened at the time. Sheep's trotteis 
may be done in the same way. 

613. Innglatt jelly, to keep in the house, and stir in brotli, 
tea^ &c. as par. 61 i. Boil one ounce of isinglass shavinsrs 
and a brown crust of bread in a quart of water, till reduced 
.to a pmt; then strain it through muslin and set it by. 

614. — Isinylass with milk, — Boil one ounce of isinglisB and 
a bit of cinnamon in half a pint of water nearly half an hour, 
then mix to it a pint of new milk and some loaf sugar ; let it 
boil up once, and strain it off. It may be eaten either warm 
or cold. 

615. GraufuLrice milk. — Set a pint of milk on the Are, with 
a bit of cinnamon, lemon peel, or nutmeg; rub smooth a 
tablespoon full of rice, with as much cold milk as is necessary, 
and when the other mTlk boils, stir it in, and let it boil a few 
minutes ; when nearly done, sweeten it 

616. Egg9 are very nourishing, as well as light, and arr 
often lecommended when solid meat is not allowed ; they are 
most wholesome raw, and may be eaten in various ways. Beat 
up fine with a little moist sugar, and stirred into a wine glass 
of spring water ; iu this way they are very serviceable for a 
cold and hoarseness. 

617. Or two eggs beat up with sugar and nutmeg, and 
stirred gradually into half a pint of boiling milk. 

: 618. Oi the yolk and white beat up separately, and tlien 
mixed with half a glass of white wine, and half a glass of warm 
water. If dressed at all, they should be very lightly boiled 
or poached, and the yolks only eaten by sick persons. 

619. A light pudding is sometimes allowed* in sickness, or, when meat would not be proper; and as it is not 
every sick nurse who has a notion of making a light delicate 

Cudding to suit the sickly palate and tender stomach, it ma} 
e of use here to giv« a few directions on the subject. 

620. Bread pudding, — A piece of crumb of bread about the 
size of a duck's e^^, crumbled into as much boiling milk as 
will just soak it; while hotting hot, stir it gradually <m to ar 


.egg which has bettn finely beaten ; add a little sugar and nut- 
meg ; put it into a small teacup previously buttered, which 
let it exactly fill ; tie it over with a nice clean clotli buttered, 
(not flouredj put it into a saucepan of water fast boiling, and 
let it boil twenty-five minutes. A pudding witli two or tliree 
eggs will take proportionably longer to boil. 

621. Batter pudding. — Beat an egg very fine; mix to it one 
tablespoon full of fiour tlioroughly smooth, and then a tabic;- 
uipoon full or ratljer more of milk, a very small pinch of salt 
and dust of nutmeg; butter your very small teacup and cloth, 
as above, and boil it half an hour. 

622. Grotrnd-rice pudding, — Half a pint of milk, a small 
tablespoon full of lice; mix tlie rice smooth witli a small 
quantity of the milk cold, and stir it into tlie rest boiling ; by 
.tlie time it thickens, have ready two eggs finely beaten, gra. 
dually mix to them the rice milk, and sweeten ; butter a disli, 
put it in, grate a little nutmeg over, and bake about twenty 

. 623. Sago mdding. — Boil a large spoonful of sago in hatt' 
a pint of milk till tender, then add two eg^s, sugar, and nut. 
meg as above, and bake it slowly : it will take neai'ly three 
quarters of an hour. 

624. In general it may be deserved, that in flour puddings, 
4lie eggs should be periectly mixed with tlie fiour befoi'e any 
milk is added; but with rice, bread, or otlier puddings in 
.nhich the milk is boiled, tlie best way to prevent .the eggs 
-curdhng, is to mix them gradually with the milk boiling hot, 
and put it immediately in the oven. Many. )L'<H)ple leave th« 
bread and milk, or rice milk, to become cold, -^nd then ad< 
tlie eggs; this is more trouble, and does not an«wer so well. 
A laurel or peach leaf boiled in the milk gives a p'^uant fla^ 
vvour. • 

625. Drinks for periom in fevers. — Toast and wafer. — Toast 
slowly a piece of bread till very brown and hard, but do nol 
suffer it to catch fire, or become at all black; plunge it in % 
jug of cold >vater (not pour the water over the toast), anci 
cover it up, 

• ; 626. Barley water. — ^Wash a handful of cpmmt^a barrey; 
and simmer gently in three pints of water till reduced to a 
quart ; oiv boil one ounce of pearl barley in fi little water twQ 
or three minutes to cleanse it; then pour ofi* the water, putji 
quai't of fresh water, and let it simmer an hour» It may be 
sweetened and flavoured with cinnamon, or lemon peel if 
agreeable. If the bowels be confined, let it be sweetene';^ 
with boney^ or boil in it a lew raisins, or figs. If the per^pit 


iMve a stnmguiiry or diiiiculty of making water, liMolve hi k 
some gum arabk;. If it is desifed to piK>inote |)ers|»ii»ltoii» 
rub a dinchiii ol' povdered uitre with a Jittl« |H)wdeivd sugar 
or honey, then mix a little of the boUtug barley water to it» 
and go on by little and little, adding a pint. A teacu|> AiU 
of this may lie taken warm three or four times a day. If for 
a child, the quantity must be lessened. This is jmrticularly 
pro|ier in cases of soi« tliroat 

627. CurrmU drink, — ^To a pint of fredugatliered currants 
(stripped) put a pint of water ; let tliem boil together ten mi- 
nutes or a quarter of an hour, then strain, and sweeten la 
Histe ; a few raspberries added, give a pleasant flavoar. The 
same may be produced in winter, by simmering two table- 
spoons full of currant jelly in half a pint of water. 

628. Raspberry vinegw, — Put a quart of raspberries and a 
quart of the best vinegar into a china bason ; let them stand 
a day, then strain off the liquor on to a quart more raspbeiw 
ries; do not squeeze, but di-ain tlie pulp as dry as you can; 
and to prevent waste of juice, it may be well to wet your 
straining cloth witli vinegar; the day following r^>eat thit 
jM'ocesp on another quart of rasplxMiies. Having stood a day 
and been again drained off, the liquor is to be simmered, in an 
unglazed eartlien pipkin or stone jar, with one pound ol 
fine loaf sugar to each pint of liquor ; let it simmer about a 
quarter of an hour ; when cold bottle and closely cork it. Be 
careful that througli the whole process no metal or glazed 
eai'thcn vessel is used. Some people put all the i-aai^nies 
at once, and let it stand three days, which perlM^s answei^ as 
well. A tablespoon full of this liquor in a glass of water, 
makes a most refreshing drink for sick persons, and is parti* 
cularly serviceable in complaints of the eliest. 

629. »dpple Water, — Cut two large apples in slices, and 
)iiour a quart of boiling water over them; strain in two or 
^ree hours, and sweeten to taste ; or, boil' tJie apples in threa 
pints of water till reduced to a quart. 

630. Orange or lemon drink, — Squeoz/e the juice of four 
oraiiges oi* lemons ; rince the pulp and rind in half a pint of 
boiling water ; simmer another half pint of water with eight or 
ten lumps of sugar till thorougfil y dissolved and mixed ; when 
all are cold, mix them well togetlier, and straui through mus* 
111 or flannel. 

631. Mucilage of gtim arabie. — One ounce of gum arable 
in powder, mix well witli two tablespoons full of honey ; shave 
a Jittle rnid of lemin ; clean off the white piUi, and cut th« 
itmoa m slices into a jug, then stir on it^ by degrees a piirt 


and a half of boiling water. This is particularly good in any 
complaint that affects the chesty as cough, consumption, mea- 
■ies, &c. 

€32. Bran tea is made by boiling a large handful of bran 
in a quart of water till it thickens ; then strain it off and 
sweeten. The gum, honey, and lemon, may be added as 
akdTe. It is useful in the same complaints. 

633. Tea made of balm, mint, sage, marigolds, or cowslips, 
is often found refreshing. Balm tea is most cooling; mint the 
most comforting to the bowels ; sage,* or marigold, most re. 
viving; and cowslip tea has rather a composing tendency. 
To have them nice, they should be made fresh and fresh. 

634. Camomile tea is often rendered nauseous by suffering 
it to remain far too long on the flowers; after ten minutes, or 
even less, no farther good properties are extracted from the 
flowers, only a nauseous bitter. Half a handful of flowers 
will make a quart of tea sufficiently strong for any purpose. 
If a person who takes camomile tea to strengthen the sto* 
mach, finds a lowncss and sinking, six or eight cloves may 
be added. 

636. Imperial drink. — Cream of tartar and loaf sugar, of 
each half an ounce ; the outer rind of lemon, either fresh or 
dried ; pour over a quart of boiling water. When cold strain 
it off. 

636. Soda water. — Dissolve^ in a large glass containing a 
vine glass full of water, a small teaspoon full of carbonate of 
soda ; squeeze into it the juice of lemon, or Seville orange, 
and drink it off quickly while it hisses ; if fresh fruit cannot 
be had, citric, or tartaric acid (which may be had at the drug, 
gist's) will answer the purpose. Dissolve in another glass half 
a teaspoon full of either of these acids, pour it into the soda, 
and drink it off instantly. It may be taken every three or 
four hours while feverisli thirst continues. It is a very proper 
drink in the measles ; but the quantity must be reduced acw 
GOfding to the age of the child. 

637. Linseed tea. — Boil two tablespoons full of the seeds 
in three pints of water till reduced to a quart; then strain it 
off; it may be sweetened with Spanish Hquorice, or if preferred, 
sweetened with honey, and made sharp with lemon juice or 

6&. Liquorice roots and mardli mallow roots, of each two 

■ * Sage tea.'^^A gentleman farmer m this county who lived to np« 
vrards of ninety years of age in uninterrupted health, never through 
hii whole life drank any other tea than that oS sage. 


ounces; boil in three pints of water till reduced to a quarll 
strain it, and let it stand to settle ; then pour it off clear iroa 
the grounds. These two last are good drinks in coughs aij 
complaints of the lungs. A teacup full may be taken thift 
or four times a day. 

. 639. Whey. — Cheese whey is a very wholesome drink ; so 
also is buttermilk, especially in the spring time when the cows 
have good fresh herbage. 

640. White wine whey, — Put half a pint of new milk on the 
fire ; the moment it boils^ pour into it as much white wine as 
will turn it ; cowslip wine is the best if it can be had ; let it 
boil up, then stand the saucepan aside till the curd iettlei^ 
and do not stir it ; then pour off the whey, and add to it half 
a pint of boiling water, and sweeten with loaf sugar. |f skim 
milk is used, no water need be added, but the wine should not 
enceed a wine glass full. 

641. Whey made with vinegar, orange, lemon, ftppl^^ or 
honey, answers every purpose of producing perspiration, and 
is not heating like that which is made of wine. There are 
two ways of making it ; the second is preferable. 1. Slice 
an orange, lemon, or apple into a pint of milk and water, and 
boil till it is clear ; then sweeten and strain it. Or, 2. Turn 
half a pint (or rather less) of boiling milk, with as much vine, 
gar, orange, or lemon juice, as will make it (]uite clear; then 
mix with it as much boiling water as will bring it to a pleasant 
sharp acid taste, and add a lump or two of sugar. 

642. Honey y or trecuile posset — Into half a pint of boiling 
milk, or milk and water, stir a large tableipoon full of honeyp 
or treacle ; let it boil up quickly, then stand it aside for the 
curd to settle, and when it has done so, strain it off. 

643. Mustard whey, — To a pint of boiling milk, add an 
ounce and a half of bruised mOstePd se-ed ; boil it till the curd 
completely separates ; then strain it off to a pint of boiling 
water, sweeten, and boil it up once. Thb is particulariy good 
for old people labouring under cold, rheumatism, palsy, or 
dropsy. It is also sometimes recommended in low ieyers. 
The dose is a teacup full four or five times a day. 

644. Essence of malt, for a cough or hoarseness. — Tw<i 
quarts of the very strongest sweet-wort, set over a slow firfr 
iu a very clean tin saucepan, with the lid on till it boils ; then 
take off the lid, and stir it frequently, not taking off the scnm, 
but stirring it down. When it has become so thick a syrup 
as with difficulty to drop from the spoon, it is done ; when 
cold put it into bottles and cork it tight. Take two tea 
spoons full twice a day, and the last thing at night 

MEDICINE. . 189 

6^. Vegetable itfrupfor the same purpose, — Boi] two table* 
9poons fiill of lluaeed in a pint of soft water, till reduced to 
ODe half; strain it, and add one pint of lemon juice/^ and 
tbree pounds of the coai'sest brown sugar. it simmer aL 
together over a slow fire, for upwards of two hours, skimming 
it as the scum rises. This is supposed to be God hold's cele. 
tokted and very expensive syrup. Whether or not it is so, it 
iS has been found very successful in relieving hoarseness or 
husky cough. 

646. For a dry tickling cotigh,-^One ounce of spermaceti 
.ia powder, one tablespoon full of honey, a tablespoon full of 
.simple peppermint water, and the yolk of a new laid egg ; beat 
It up together, and take a spoonful oflen. 

647. Honey and vinegar simmered together, have often been 
found beneficial in an asthmatic cough. Ox the following : 

648. Sugar candy bruised, oil of sweet almonds, and lemon 
juice mixed together. 

649 Gargles. — If a soflening gargle be. wanted, as is tl|^ 
case when in a sore throat the person finds a quantity of 
phlegm collected which he cannot throw up, the following may 
be used. Take an ounce of marsh mallow roots, and three 
or four Turkey figs, boil tliem in a quart of milk and water 
till nearly half reduced ; then strain the liquor on a tablespoon 
full of honey, and add half an ounce of volatile sal ammoniac. 

650. If a sharp scouring gargle be wanted, and one that 
shall brace the throat and palate, the following is reconu 
mended : Take a handful of sage leaves, and a handful of 
red rose leaves; pour over them a pint of boiling water; in 
half an hour pour it off, and stir in two spoonfuls of honey, 
and half a pint of vinegar. Spirits of vitriol would answer 
the purpose of the vinegar, perhaps rather better, and come 
cheaper; but it is a dangerous drug to stand about, and I 
have all along been very cautious of recommending any thing 
of tlie kind; if however you choose to have it, take great care 
of it ; set it out of the reach of your children, and put am 
much in the gargle as will make it pleasantly sharp. 

651 . Or this is a verv good gargle. Bran tea, sweetened 
jrith honey, a pint, tincture of myrrh one ounce. 


652. Here let me caution you against purchasing medieinet 
At little chandler's shops, or obtaining them of any pei^sot 

' * licmons are in general very expensive 5 and the same parpu«# 
may be answered by using good wlute-wuie vmegar. , 


who is not thoroughly acquainted with their nature and pru. 
perties; this can only be expected of regular druggists^ and 
to such it is always best to apply. Medicine kept in smafl 
tfuantities loses its virtue and becomes pernicious ; and shop- 
keepers who deal in many other things, and keep a few meoi. 
ctues over and above, are apt not to be so careful in properly 
marking and keeping them separate, as those whose r^^ular 
business it is, and who have nothing else to attend to. 

653. Be careful also never to take medicine without being 
correctly informed as to the proper dose. If a person tells 
you that such a drug is a c«tain cure for any complaint 
under which you may be labouring, and advises you to get a 
])ennyworth, or two pennyworth of it, you may generally 
conclude that one who prescribes so vagnely is too 'rash and 
ignorant to be trusted. A pennyworth is no rule at all ; some 
druggists sell as much again for a penny as others ; and seri- 
ous mischief may arise from taking an improper dose, even of 
a valuable and suitable medicine. 


654. Castor ail, — In purchasing this, always ask for cM 
draum. The dose of this, for a child, is from half a teaspoon., 
full to a dessert-spoon full ; for a grown person, from a dessert, 
spoon to two tablespoons Aill. 

655. Senna tea, — On half an ounce of senna and one ounc^ 
of figs, tamarinds, or raisins, pour a pint of boiling water; lei 
it stand for four or &ye hours, then strain it off ; a small tea^ 
cup full may be taken every hour till it operates ; or the same 
i!i<Lrredients may be boiled in a pint and a half of water, till 
reduced to a pint, and then strained off; in this caae a sryiallftr 
di>sc will suffice. 

656. Salts. — Epsom, Glauber, or Cheltenham salts, — As 
many fatal mistakes have occurred by persons taking spirits- of 
salt, oxalic acid, or other poisonous drugs, supposing them to 
be th^ safe and proper medicinal salts, here is a simple test by 
which to try them Before you wet the salts, take a small 
pinch and throw it in the fire ; if it is the proper thing, it will 
dissolve like snow; but if you see it spirtle, and send up a 
blue flame (like a match) you may be sure it is something 
amiss. Another thing by which vou may ascertain, is this; 
salts (such as you ought to take; have a bitter and soapy 
taste; but the poisonous salts have a sharp acid burning tasl^ 
The best way of taking salts is, to dissolve an ounce in a pint 
of water, and take a wine glass full every mornings if that be 
the design, or ev^^ry half hour till it operates* 


657. Rhubarb and magnesia. — For a grown }:er8on; a large 
teaspoon full of magnesia, and as much rhubarb as will lie on 
a sixpence ; to be mixed in a glass of cold water^ or simple 
peppermint water. The best way of mixing it is, to lay the 
powder at top of the liquid, let it stand till it has all settled, 
and then stb it up. 

658. Sal polychrest and rhubarb make a very good Jaxa. 
tive medicine for children who are weak in the stomach and 
bowels. Take one drachm of sal polychrest, and two sera, 
pies of i^ubarb in powder ; mix them, and make into twelve 
powders, one or two to be taken daily. This is the dose for a 
child about ^ve years old. 

659. Opening electuary. — A very useful family medicine, 
particularly good for those who are troubled with asthma or 
rheumatism. One ounce of senna powder, half an ounce of 
flour sulphur, two drachms of powdered ginger, half a drachm 
of saffron powder, four ounces of honey. The size of a nut- 
meg to be taken night and morning. 

660. Another electuary. — Equal parts of sulphur and crem 
of tartar mixed up with treacle. If an equal part of magne- 
ua be added« it forms the electuary recommended for the 

661. Laxative syrup. — Take one ounce of senna leaves, 
and having carefully picked out every bit of stalk, pour over 
them one pint of boiling water ; let this boil till one half remains, 
then pour the whole into a china bason, and covering it up, 
set it aside for twenty -four hours; strain it off through it 
linen rag, and adding four ounces of treacle, put it over a fire 
till it becomes so much heated as to be thoroughly mixed to. 
gether. When cold, cork it up for use, and keep it in a cool 
place. This syrup is chiefly intended for children ; the dose 
may be from a teaspoon full to a tablespoon full, according to 
the age and strength of the child; if not active enough, pow- 
dered jalap may be added. 

662* Calomel powder. — Of calomel four grains, of jalap 
twelve grains, oi ginger four gtains. This is a dose for a 
grown person ; for a child it must be proportionably lessened. 
It must be taken in jelly, honey, treacle, or sugar ; not in any 
liquid; and during its operation all cold must be avoided. 
This medicine is good for indigestion, and irregularity of the 

663. Electuary for the rheumatism^ communicated by an 
eminent surgeon for the benefit of his poor neighbours. Pow. 
dered gum guaiacum eight grains, flour sulphur two drachms^ 
powdered rhubarb fifteen grains, crem of tartar one drachm. 


powdered ginger thirty grains, nutmeg eight grains. To ^>e 
made into an electuary with two ounces of clarified honey j a 
teaspoon ful) to lie taken night and morning. 

664. Emetics. — Ipecacuanha powder ; dose for a grown p^iu 
son fifteen or twenty grains, to be taken in sugar and wami 
water; for a child, from three to fifteen grains. Ipecacuanha 
wine; two tablespoons full at first, and another in ten miuutfi^ 
if the first have not operated ; for a child, from two teaspoon! 
full to a tablespoon full, (according to its age,) every quartet 
of an hour, till vomiting takes place. 

. 665. Antimonial wine is a good emetic, but not so safe with, 
out the advice of a regular doctor. 

666. Flower of mustard will act as an emetic; see par. 

667. Camomile tea, also, when the stomach is in a state to 
require it; see par. 601, 602. 

668. Cough drops, recommended by an eminent medical 
man for hooping cough, and for coughs in general, when not 
«ttended witlj any great degree of feyer. Oxymel of squills^ 
paregoric elixir, antimonial wine, and sal volatile, in equal 
parts. The dose for a grown person is two small teaspoons 
full at going to bed, and one teaspoon full twice a day be. 
sides ; for children according to their age. 

669. Syrup for cough and soreness of stomach, chiefly used 
for infants. Syrup of white poppies, oil of sweet almonds^ of 
each one ounce, antimonial wine one drachm. It may be 
maHe with syrup of violets instead of syrup of poppies; and, 
unless the child is very restless, will answer quite as well. 
The dose is from a teaspoon full to a dessert-spoon full, (ae- 
coiding to the child's age,) two or three times a day. 

670. White emulsion, for cough and soreness of stomach. 
Six ounces (that is twelve tablespoons full) of boiling water, 
sweetened with loaf sugar ; when cold, put it in a lai^ phial, 
and add two ounces of oil of sweet almonds, and as much sal 
volatile as will cause the oil to mix with tlie water, so thai 
when you shake the bottle, you will no longer see the 6il, but 
the whole will appear white like milk. A tablespoon full of 
this may be taken frequently. If the cough is very trouble, 
some, or the stomach very sore, half an ounce of tincture of 
tolu may be added, or half an ounce of paregoric elixir ; but 
not if the person is feverish. 

671. Strengthening medicines, — Bark may be prepared A>i 
use either by boiling, or pouring boiHng water over it, in the 
following ways: An ounce of bark (bruised) boiled in a pint 
and a half of water, till redueed to a pint ; then straiu oif, an<^ 


ftdd a teaspoon full of weak spirits of vitriol ; or, take one 
ounce of bark in powder, and one ounce of tincture of myrrh ; 
pour on them a pint of boiling water ; let them stand in a 
bottle two or tlu^ee days, ii*e<juently slriking it ; after this it 
may be taken ; pour off the li(juor clear from the sediment, 
and take a wine glass full twice a day. This is a good me. 
dicine for children after measles, or any other lowering ^Us- 
ease; the quantity of course must he reduced according to 

! their age. For a child of six or seven yeara old^ a table- 
spoon full will be a proper dose. 

. 672. For a weak stomach and want of appetite. One 
ounce of camomile flowei-s, half an ounce of dried Seville 
orange or lemon peel, (that is, the yellow rind quite free 

.from die inner white;) pour on them a quart of boiling water, 
and take a w ine glass lull the first thing in the morning, and 
twice in the day beside. 

673. Anollier, — For nervous weakness and lowness of spi- 
rits. One ounce of red rose leaves dried, two drachms of gen- 
tian roots, and two drachms of orange peel (as above) cut in 

juiall pieces; pour over them a quart of boiling water; let it 
stand two or three hours, then strain off, and add a teaspoon 
, full of weak spirits of viti'iol. A glass of this may be taken 
twice or Uiric« a day. 


674. Poultices. — When there is any inflammation, the best 
poultice tliat can be made is of bread and water ; they should 

,De. either boiled togc.tlier, or boiling water poured over the 
bread, (just as much as the bread will suck up^) tlien covered 
up close, till it is cool enough to apply. 

675. Bread and milk poultice may be made just in the 
same manner; it is sometimes preferred when there is not 
much inflammation^ but a slow gathering of matter which 
requires to be drawn to a head. A bit of fresh lard, or a tea- 
qioou full of olive oil may be added to it. 

676. There is no good purpose of a bread and milk poul. 
tice, that is not better answered by the old fashioned bread 
and butter poultice, (mentioned par. 541.) and it will oft^i 
.succeed in cleansing and healing a sore, when several other 
poultices and applications have been tried in vain. This poul- 
tice is particularly useful for a sore that has been long kept 
open, owing to the blood being in a poor state. 

677. Linseed poultice is sometimes made, by flrst making 
a bread and milk, or bread and water poultice rather too tlnu, 
and theiL siirriog in as much linseed powder as will bring it tu 


a proper stiflfness; or by trradaally stirring boiling water to 
the powder till it is of a proper condstence: this way rather 
more of the powder will be required. Or it may be made by 
setting on a dessert-spoon fall of Unseed (not ground) in three 
Quarters of a pint of water ; let it more than ha^f faioil away, 
tlien put in a lars:e piece of crumb of bread, and let it boil a 
minute or two till quite swollen and soft ; then beat it up to. 
gether, and apply warm, 

678. A roasted onion is a very good poultice, or an onHm 
boiled in a very small nuantity of water or milk ; when quite 
soil, crumble in as mucti biHsad as will soak up tlie liquid, and 
lieat it all up together. 

679. A jig pouifice, — Get the finest Turkey figs; according 
to the size of the poultice required, boil one, two, or more, in 
new milk ; when they have become very tender, and tlie milk 
has nearly boiled away, pour off what remains, and with that 
well wash the sore ; beat up the figs, and Jay them on as warm 
as can be borne. This must be renewed moniing and even. 
ing ; so indeed should all poultices. 

680. Lily root poultice. — Take ^ye or six cloves of the root 
of tlie large white garden lily, or more if a very large poultice 
is required ; shred them very small, and boil tliem in water; 
^dien tender, crumble in bread enough for the poultice. 

681. Poultice for a bad brea$t; see par. 557. 

682. Vinegar and oatmeal poultice for a sprain need not be 
boiled, only mixed smoothly together. It should be large. 

683. I'he inflammation arising from a sprain, is often abaf. 
ed, and the pain relieved, by bathing the part Irequently with 
bpints of tether. 

684. Fomentations may be made by boiling the herbs dk 
rectcd, straining them off, and wringing out flannels or cloths 
in the liquor in which they were boiled, and applying tb^n 
hot to the part in pain. For example, take two ounces of 
nhite poppy heads, and ti\o ounces of camomile flowers — or 
feverfew — or wormwood tops — or one ounce of elder flowers; 
boil them in three pints of water till reduced to a quart 
I'his is a good application for any violent pain ; great cans 
musi be taken to avoid cold. 

685. The same end may be answered, by filling two flannel 
bags witli the herbs ; have a saucepan of boiling water on the 
hob ; wring out one bag and apply ; leave the otlier in ; when 
the first bag begins to chill, change them, and so go on tiM 
tlie i>ain is relieved ; then have ready a pi< ce of dry flannel, 
to rtpply instead, to prevent cold being taken. 

686. Oil and ointment for bmines. — Take ^camomile flow- 


tm, iaveoder^ and southernwood tops, of each three haudfulsi 
womrwood, red sage, and rosemary tops, of each two hand. 
Itiis; red rose.buds, one handful, shred all very fine. Put 
the ingredients in a new stone pipkin, with a quart of besi 
salad oil. Let them stand two months or more, stirring them 
often. I'hen boil it up in the same vessel. Let it boil a 
^uaiter of an hour, then add a quarter of a pint of the best 
French brandy. Boil it up agam, strain it off through a 
sieve, and it will be fit for use. The ointment is to be made 
by adding some lard to the ingredients after the oil is strain. 
«d off. Let it simmer about ten minutes^ then strain clear 
into gallipots. 

687. Liniment for bum or scald ; see par. 646, 

688. Ointment for the piles ; see par. 521 . 

689. Ointment for chilblains ; see par. 585. 
69 ). Mixture for the thrush ; see par. 563. 

691. To prepare colewort (or young cabbage plant) leaves, 
for dressing a blister. Choose fine, young, quick grown leaves ; 
with a small knife draw off the strings from the backs; roll 
them two or three times with the rolling pin till quite smooth ; 
then hold them, one by one, before the fire, till the steam 
draws out, and the leaf looks moist, and of a bright green all 
over; as you do each leaf, shut it up close in your left hand, 
and so go on tiil you have done them all ; keep them still in 
your left hand while you remove the blister, then spread them 
over the part ; take care that every part of the sore be cover- 
ed ; then spread a fine linen rag, and as long as the blister 
discharges freely, put a soft thick napkin also. Let this dies- 
sing be renewed twice a day till the plax^e is quite healed, and 
no ointment whatever applfed. I have dressed scores of blis- 
ters, and never knew one, thus managed from the first to the 
last, that did not heal favourably. If the skin should become 
stiff and harsh, a little sallad oil may be applied with a fea. 
ther, or rubbed gently in with the tip of the finger. 

692. If a blister (or any other case in which a dressing of 
colewort leaves is ordered) should appear inflamed, the leaves 
of the well-known herb plantain (the seeds of which are got 
ioT canary and other birds) may be prepared and applied in 
the same manner. 

693. Eye water, — Those who have any weakness or com- 
plaint in the eyes, should carefully avoid tampering with them, 
and either taking to glasses, or using medicinal washes at tlie 
recommendation of ignorant people. The following may l>e 
lifted without injury, and may in some slight cases afford re«. 


Ifef ; but uo great benefit is to be expected from them. Breast 
luilk freqaeatly milked into the e^e from the nipple; rose 
water, or elder flower water; weak green tea, or camomile 
tea, or rosemary tea. 

694 Injections.^ A common injection, from half a pint, t) 
a pint of thin gniel^ or warm milk and water ; a piece of hog's 
lard, or two tablespoons full of oil, and the same of common 
salt or coarse brown sugar. If this be not considered suffi* 
dently opening, instead of the oil or lard, two or three table- 
spoons full of castor oil ; and instead of the common salt, one 
bimce of Epsom salts may be used ; for oliildren, a smaller 
quantity of all the ingredients will suffice ; and when children 
have long suffered from sluggishness and irregularity of the 
bowels, and various powerful medicines have failed to set them 
to rights, this common injection, repeated about three times, 
at the distance of one or two days, has been found to clear 
the bowels, and bring them into proper and regular action. 

695. Sometimes in cases of extreme relaxation of the bowels, 
tn injection of starch and laudanum is ordered ; a quarter of 
a pint oi thin starch, moderately warm, and from twenty to 
sixty drops, of laudanum may be used. 

696. In some cases of extreme weakness, or inability to 
swallow through quinsey, or other complaints of the throat, 
life has been sustained for a considerable lime by means oJf 
injections of beef tea or other nourishing liquids; but in all 
such cases, whatever is necessary should be done under the 
direction of professional skill, and let those directions be im. 
plicitly followed. 

Embrocations, or powerful outward applications, to be rub- 
bed on certain parts of the body, with a view to their pe- 
netrating and relieving some inward complaint. 

697. For a sore throat, — Olive oil one ounce, spirits oi 
hartshorn half an ounce, or if the skin will bear it, equal parts 
of each. 

698. For the hooping cough, — Oil of amber and spirits of 
hartshorn, of each hsdf an ounce, volatile sal ammoniac five 
grains. This is very po'verful, and for very young children, 
the sal ammoniac should be left out, and the spiiits of harts, 
horn lessened, or indeed the oil of amber used alone ; as much 
however of the spirits should be used as can be borne without 
blistering the skin. The same may be used for children in 
convulsions ; see also par. 579. 

699. Anodyne balsam, or Soap Liniment, to an oniice of 
which b added half an ounce of laudanum. In violent paim 


0€<:a8ioned by teething, tliis may be rubbed on the back bone; 
t>r lor violent tooth ache, or face ache, a piece of ilannei ^ct 
%ttt]i this may be applied to tlie cheeky or a little of it held OB 
ill ^e palm of the hand. 

CHAP. Xll. 

Of the Education of Children. 

700. To e^l^ate means, to breed up, to bring tip, to rear tip, 
and that with a view to a certain end. When you plant a 
young tree, so as to give it every advantage of soil, sun, air, and 
moisture; when you clear it from blight and canker, carefully 
train its promising branches, and prune away its useless ones, 
you are in a sense educating your ti^e. You do all this with 
a view to its fruitfulness ; this end you keep in view at every 
stage ; you would not th^rc'fore be willing to gather its bios, 
soms, however beautiful ; you would not, in shorty do any thing 
to obtain present gratification, or to avoid present lal)0ur, that 
would interfere witli your chief object, the fiiiitfiilness of your 
tree. In die education of your children, you train tJiom up 
witli a view to their future well-being. The piosecution of 
this business will certainly require Oti your part groat care 
and attention, and may probably involve coiisideitible sacri. 
fices. Those whose resources are limited, must exercise the 
more frugality and self-denial, in proportion as they have 
.more to provide for out of it. Do not however look upon 
your children, as publicans look upon the soldiers ({uartered 
on tliem, in tlie light of a burdensome ta»; remember, 1. It 
was your own voluntary act to form youi'selves into families. 
2. That children, if they bring cares, bring also real pli*asures. 
Is there not something very delightful in watching the growth 
of tlieir little limbs, in listening to their innocent prattle, and 
in sharing their infant caresses? Does not the thought of 
home, tlie cheerful fire-side, and the dear little smiling circle, 
sustain the fond fatlier throu<*h many a day of toilsome lii. 
hour, and the patient mother through many a night of weary 
watching P Remember, 3. children also bring solid advan. 
tages. If well trained, they soon begin to do souiething to. 
wutb the general support of the fainiiv ; they become asbiit. 


ants and props to tlie parents, and mutual supports to eaca 
other ; aud thus parents who have discharged tlieir duty to- 
vards tlieir children, oflen find themselves, as old age comes 
on, amply repaid for all the cares, toils, and piivations sua. 
tained in tlieir infancy. 

701. But that all this, and not the reverse, may be the 
case, care must be taken of their education. This care 
should include tliree objects; tlie present health and comfort 
of the children; the comfort and advantage of the family 
while they continue members of it; and, their preparation to 
go forth from it with respectabiHty and advantage. Happily 
these objects are all in agreement; whatever secures one of 
them, must needs conduce to the others ; and whatever does 
not so conduce, ought at once to be given up as altogether 

702. Proper attention must be paid in the first place to the 
child's present healtli and comfort If these are not pre- 
served, its temper will very likely be soured, perhaps even its 
faculties for future exertion may be weakened. It is a very 
dreadful thing to suffer a helpless infant to cry um^^^arded 
and unrelieved ; but really it is an act of such barbarity, tliat 
it may be hoped there is little occasion to caution against it. 
Perhaps parents in general require rather to be cautioned 
against false indulgence. 

703. Remember then, my friends, to pamper a child in his 
ibod, is no real kindness ; let him have enough of w^hat is 
w holesome ; but if you accustom him to be dainty at meals, 
and greedy after eating for the mere pleasure of eating, you 
arc at once injuring his health, increasing the ex{)ense of his 
maintenance, by tliis' means abridging the comforts of the fa- 
mily in general, and by creating for him new wants, you are 
going the very way to make him know, at some future day. 
what want really is. If you wish to make your child happy, 
you will never on any account gratify his ill tempers, or pas- 
sions, or let him have any thing for crying for. If a child once 
finds tliat it can gain its point by violence and crying, 'tis a dis. 
covery that he will be sure never to forget ; those around him 
will have crying and violence enough, and they may thank 
themselves for it; and if their annoyance were all, it would not 
so much signify ; but far worse consequences follow such cnid 
mismanagement The child's present happiness in the first 
place is destroyed. If a parent was even so indulgent as to 
give a child every thing within his power that it cried for, 
there would still be many things beyond his power, frhtch 
would serve just as uell for the child to break its heart aflter; 


but in genera] those pai'ents who are most foolishly indulgent, 
ere also most impatient and violent ; they humour the child 
till they are out of patience ivitli bim^ and then snap at him, 
refuse him every indulgence, and perhaps shake or oeat him 
for crying; the child cannot comprehend the reason of thid 
change^ in fact there is no reason for it ; but it is bis misfor^ 
tune, through the continual caprice of his parents, continually 
to experience indulgence without enjoyment, and punishment 
without correction. By such treatment the child's temper is 
soured, bad passions are excited, and habits of deceit are 
formed. For a humoored child is bent upon having his own 
will at all events ; he will begin with a little passion and vio- 
lence ; if that does not gain his point, he will try a greater; 
if that should fail, sooner than be defeated, he will have 
recourse to artifice; and if artifice should once succeed, it 
may be feared that he will resort to it as a weapon always at 
hand. Now only consider the mischief attending such a pro- 
cess. The family to which such children belong, will be ill 
a continual state of warfare and tieachery ; all peace and hap. 
piness will be destroyed by open broils or artful plots ; and 
instead of being a family of love, the individuals of which it 
is composed, resemble a set of wild, fierce, treacherous ani- 
mals, confined by circumstances to one cage, to bite and de- 
vour one another. Nor does the mischief stop here. In pro- 
cess of time, these children are to be sent out into the world 
to get their living ; and who do you think will hire such young 
persons into their service if they know their character ? Or 
who will keep them when they find it outP Besides, the 
young people themselves cannot then have their own will and 
way ; those who employ them will not of course think of con- 
sulting it ; the airs and graces they have been used to show 
off at home, will be quite useless elsewhere ; and deceit, if de- 
tected, will lead to total disgrace, loss of character, and loss 
of livelihood. The only possible chance that remains for 
them to go on with any thing like comfort and respectability, 
is in their entirely forsaking their old habits, unlearning what 
they have been all their life leaniing, and taking up for the 
first time habits which, if they had been properly trained in 
tiieir childhood, might have by this time become like second 
nature to them. What a pity but this had been the case ! 

704. A wise and good parent will never suffer himself to 
exercise partiality between his children ; as his own, they have 
all an equal claim on his regard; and the circumstances of 
being the eldest or youngest — or a boy or girl — or most like 
the (ather or mother, are matteis over which tliey could have 


no coutrol, and in ivhich there can be no merit. It would 
be unjust and cruel that on such grounds any difference of 
regard or indulgence should be felt or exercised. It would be 
foolish too ; nothing tends more to destroy the love and bar. 
mony of a family. The faYOured child never respects its pa. 
rents; the injured can scarcely love them^ and perpetual 
strifes are excitetl between brothers and sisters^ which fre- 
quently grow up with them, and live, when the parents, in 
whose ill.judged partiality the mischief began, are dead, and 
perhaps forgotten. 

705. In connection with tenderness and attention to bo. 
dily comfort, one of the first points to be attended to in 
the education of children, is to establish a full and absolute 
authority over them ; to convince them that they are at your 
disposal, and that your will must be obeyed. When once they 
are fully convinced of this, they will submit without difficulty, 
aud without regret. But how is this to be taught them P And 
when are they to begin learning itP It should be begun so 
early, that the child shall not be able to recollect its begin- 
ning. At a very few months old,* as soon as it is able to reach 
out its little hand for what it sees, and to feel pleasure in grasp, 
ing it, then is the time for teaching it that it is to be indulged 
in such things only as the parent chooses to bestow. Kever let 
an improper thing be given to it, and let it be used occasion, 
ally to give up whatever it has at your command; let this 
practice be thoroughly established, and you can hardly con- 
ceive in how important a degree it will operate upon each of 
tnose objects which have been spoken of, as to be always 
kept in view in the business of education. It will promote 
the child^s present health and happiness; for how many a 
violent tit of crying and passion, how many a severe correc- 
tion or irritating scolding will it tliereby be spared ! It will 
promote the peace and comfort of the family. How easily 
will subjection, good order, and harmony be maintained in a 

* A learned divine, and most able and judicious writer, has fixed 
the age of eight or nine months for beginning to bring a child into 
subjection to authority. I venture to tbink that something may be 
done in that important business at a much earlier period, i am cer- 
tain that an infant of very few weeks old, when undergoing the ope- 
ration of washing and dressing, will soon find out if the mother is 
weak enough to desist on account of its crying, and to pacify it with 
the breast. Having once granted this indulgence, the dressing wiU 
not again be accomplished without it \ on tlie otiier hand, let her go 
>n steadily, yet tenderiy, and the child, finding resistance useless, will 
■4K>n begin to take the matter patiently, and even to delight the mo 
ther with its gambols, nstead of distressing her by its screams. 


IkmUy^ where all the children have been thus early trained 
and disciplined, and have become accustomed to bending that 
self.wil), vrhich in its native stubbornness and p^rerseness ia 
the cause of all the contentions that disturb the peace of fa. 
milies^ and of society in general. It will tend to qualify youi 
child for future life ; he who has been trained to subjection 
aud discipline at home^ will find them easy when he goes 
abroad; he will be likely to submit and obey without mur- 
muring. This is the likeliest way to be comfortable in a 
ower station ; and^ depend upon it, it is one of the best qua- 
.ifications for filling a higher; he who has most thoroughly 
learnt how to obey, best kno^s how to govern. 

706. In blaming or punishing a child, take care to propor. 
tion, and, if you can, adapt your discipline to the nature of 
the ofi'ence. A child may have an accident, perhaps, through 
carelessness, that will occasion you considerable inconveni. 
euce ; but does he therefore deserve to be severely beaten, or 
locked up in the dark, or kept without food P or are any of 
these punishments likely to remedy your grievance, or to cor- 
rect his fault? I rather think not; on the contrary, I think 
it will be likely to drive him in future to practise what is far 
worse than carelessness; he will try to screen himself from 
punishment by deceit. Suppose you should endeavour to 
make him sensible of the inconvenience suffered in the family 
for want of the article which he had destroyed; or should 
you require some sacrifice on his part towards replacing it, 
such as withholding something that was to have been pui*. 
chased for him, or applying his own little hoard to the pur. 
pose ; r though this last I should be very loath to do, lest in 
correcting a fault I should be discouraging a virtue ; however,) 
there would be some proportion and some connection between 
the fault committed and the punishment endured. 

707. For daintiness or wastefulness, I should think the loss 
of a meal a suitable punishment; you tell a child that ' wilful 
waste makes woeful want,' and you thus give him a slight spe- 
cimen of the inconvenience to which his fault naturally leads ; 
and the child who complains of a hard crust, or a stale mor. 
sel, may very properly be convinced that it is harder where 
there is none. 

708. Cruelty to animals is a fault which ought not to be 
passed over, especially in those whose future employment wii . 
very probably be the care of animals. After being thoroughly 
taught what is right, (which should always precede being pu. 
uished for doing what is wrong,) and seriously rei roved for the 
first offence ; for the second, some punishment ishould be cou. 


tnved. that slionld, if possible, maKe the child have some no. 
uon of the pam he has inflicted on the animal ; perhaps for 
an act of wanton cruelty there is no better punishment than 
a gmart thrashing ; at the same time the child should be mad^ 
to feel that his conduct has excited both horror and contempt 
in those around liim, and that it is a mean and cowardly thinsr 
to hurt a poor dumb animal. If the offence has been that of 
shutting up an animal without furnishing: it with a proper sup. 
ply of food, it might be well to confine him in a like situation 
for a few hours at a time when he would feel the want of his 
regular meal, and know that his brothers and sisters were 
enjoying theirs. If he has any other animal in his care, it 
might be taken away from him, to shew him that he is unwor. 
tliy to be trusted with it. But punishment ought not to be 
often repeated, or it will lose its effect and harden the heart 

709. For an act of wilful stubborn disobedience, such a 
course will be necessary as shall impress upon the child's 
mind his absolute dependence upon his parents for every en- 
joyment. He must be made to know that the house, the 
food, the clothes, the pleasures of whatever kind he has been 
used to enjoy, are all furnished by his parents, that their will 
must be obeyed, and he must submit, or he cannot be regard- 
ed with favour, or treated with indulgence; a disobedient 
child must be made to feel, in all his intercourse with his 
parents, that he is upon a different footing from one that is 
good and obedient ; nor must the difference of behaviouir 
manifested towards him, be suffered to wear off, until he has 
freely and fully acknowledged his fault, and submitted him- 
self to his parent's authority. But wlien once punishment has 
produced this effect, forgiveness should be cordial and entire ; 
there should be no unkind hints or ill natured reflections 
thrown out by the parents, or allowed in the other children. 

710. For quarrelling between brothers and sisters, I sup. 
pose the best thing is to separate them, not allowing them to 
play together, and so convincing them that they had better 
give up to each other, and spare a part of what they have for 
the gratification of a play fellow, than have all to themselves, 
and all their own way, but be compelled to mope alone. 

711. But the worst faults of children, are a disposition to 
lying and pilfering, and parents who have any sense of what 
is right, or any regard for the real interest of their children, 
will be most carefully watchful against them, most grieved lo 
notice the first approach to them, and most coLscientiously 
bent upon opposing tliem to the utmost of their power. la 
every vesperi, example is of the first consequence, precepts 


•re very lightly set by without it ; in these most important 
respects^ while you teach your children what is ri^ht» he scru- 
pulously careful to practise it also ; never, for the world, let 
them see you take an unjust advantage of a neighbour or an 
employer, not even in the value of a pin ; never let them sea 
you practise any little mean acts oi concealment or deceptioa 
against each other, against them, or against any one with 
^hom you are connected ; and that they may never see it, be 
sore you never practise it ; nothing but real habitual upright* 
ness and sincerity can bear close and constant inspection. I f 
in either of these points a child should have transgressed, ha 
certainly ought to suffer bodily punishment ; he ought to hh 
brought to a full confession of his fault; to be made to re« 
store to tlie full value (or at least to the extent of his power, 
and to suffer privations in order to extend that power) to the 
person whom he has injured; and he ought to feel that he 
has lost your confidence, and that it will be long before he 
can establish his character as a person to be trusted. 

712. I have spoken of discipline before instruction, but they 
must both go hand in hand. Remember, from the vei'y first 
feeble smile with which you are delighted, (perhaps even ear- 
lier still,) your child's education is begun. When it fixes its 
eye on some bright object, do not disturb its attention ; it is 
gaining an idea; but rather give it assistance, by allowing it 
to fefel the sulwtance with which it is delighted ; it has not yet 
the means of telling you exactly what it knows ; but its de- 
lighted crow is the expression of having accomplished its de. 
sire, and gained some new information; and you would be 
astonished, if you could ascertain how much knowledge it 
has gained in the first few months of its existence. Indeed, 
when a child begins to express its ideas by signs and words, 
people are surprised at its knowledge, and would be much 
more so, if they constantly bore in mind that it came into tlie 
word ignorant of every thing. 

713. As it advances in liife, all this knowledge is to be put 
to a good account, and it becomes your ' delightful task' at 
once to increase and to direct it. In the beginning of this 
book, a great deal wab said about moral character ; now the 
virtues there recommendtd will be just as necessary and valu. 
able to your child, if it lives, as to yourself, and it is your 
business to cultivate and promote them. Please to read ovei 
that chapter again, and as your cliild discovers the dawnings 
of reason and character, endeavour to train it to such habits 
as are there recommended. It is astonishing how early cha. 
nicter aiay be fanned and exhibited ; pray do not think Ughtly 


of what a little child says or does ; it caiuiot* Id be sure, do a' 
great action, either good or bad. Why uotP because it has 
not physical strength enough ; but it may form habits good 
or bad which are of the greatest importance. The seeds ot 
carrots or celery are very small, yet if you had jual sown a 
bed of them, you would be very much vexed to see any one 
come and dig them all up; the seeds of thistles or netUes are 
tery small, yet should you have no objection to see them 
t;ered all over your garden ? Oh yes, you know what each 
will grow to, and you value it accordingly; remember thi^ 
and cultivate your child's mind and disposition accordingly. 
His little sly trick of snatching a cake or toy from his bix>. 
ther, and putting his hand behind him that you may not see 
it, is just as much the beginning of a habit of injustice and 
uisincerity, as that little s^d is the beginning of a celery ot 
carrot plant, a thistle or a nettle. Is it possiUe then for yon 
to bq^in too early to cherish what is good, and to check what 
is amiss? 

714. I have already hinted at the manner in which habits 
of subordination are to be formed, (par. 705.) Justice and 
sincerity you must cultivate by shewing your high esteem of 
them; by encouraging the open confession of a fault, and 
sometimes sparing deserved censure in consideration of such 
candour, by maintaining the strictest justice between thi 
youngest children, and in the most trifling affairs; and by 
riiowing the most severe displeasure against any transgression 
in these principal points. Self-denial must be taught not so 
much by direct lessons, as by seasonable instructions and 
pleasant examples ; it is a great thing when a child can be 
mduced, of its own accord, to part with some treasure, or 
forego some gratification, because ' father will be pleased,' or 
to give up a pleasure, ' that brother or sister may enjoy if 
I would not exactly praise a child who had done so, for there 
is always danger of feeding a spirit of pride and vanity, (odi. 
ous grubs that eat out the heart of every good action they 
come in contact with,) but I would certainly let the child see 
that I was pleased, and that I was no stranger to the feelings 
of satisfaction in his own bosom, which succeed a triuna|4;i 
over selfishness. A love of industry and honest indq>eadence 
would be prompted, by very early accustoming a child to feel 
pleasure in being of some use. The little thuig who can Uvi 
just pick up his mother's thimble or ball of cotton and give 
It to her, is capable of this pleasure and emulation. U it 
well worth making it a matter of study to furnish cliildrec 
with employment suited to their years, and with employmenl 


possib.e^ that shall be of some use. At schools where sew. 
iDg work is scarce, I have known them take a piece of liueii, 
and hem, and cut off, and hem and cut off again, till it fairly 
came to nothing ; and I have felt that it must be very discou- 
raging to the poor children, and might possibly also give 
tiiem a notion of bestowing a great deal of labour on what 
was after all of no manner of use. It certainly is better when* 
it can be done, to turn the work of the smallest child to some 
useful purpose. I would have a very little child accustomed 
to pick up a few sticks, and let him see that the fire is lighten,' 
with them ; a few seeds should be given him (mustai'd anc* 
oress for instance, they are cheap, and will not exercise his 
patience too long,) and a yard of ground to sow them in ; he 
should be taken daily to watch their progress, and taught to 
pull up any weeds that appear ; when ready, he should have 
the pleasure of bringing m his oivn sail ad, and distributing 
shares to his friends; thus an interest will be given to the 
child in rational and useful pursuits; industry and forecast 
will be incited and rewarded, and good feeling will be.promot. 
ed towards tliose around him. 

715. Both boys and girls should be early taught to Vmt, 
a d accustomed to take it up at every odd minute of time; 
you can't too soon give them a notion of honest independence, 
that it is very creditable and comfortable to wear stockings of 
one^s own knitting, and clothes of one's own earning or mak- 
ing. This is a good and a saving practice ; even the mci'e habit 
of moving about their fingers nimbly, and not liking to be 
idle, is of no small value. In a winter's evening, when all are 
sitting round the fire, and one perhaps is reading, the rest 
might as well be knitting as doing nothing ; it will serve to 
keep them awake, and it is an ugly idle trick to sleep up. 

716. Your children must be clothed, in some way or other, 
at your expense. You may promote in them habits of indus. 
try and forethought, if instead of buying them a garment at 
once, you set them about some task suited to their age, and 
pay them for doing it, putting by the money to buy the hat, 
or jacket, or frock; in this way you will easily induce them, if 
they get a chance penny for running on an errand, or such like, 
to put it to the store for a good and useful purpose, instead of 
squandering it on gingerbread and lollypops. Thus too, they 
will get a notion of the cost of clothes; they will learn to 
calculate what they can afford, and what tliey must do with, 
out ; and they will get a habit of taking care of their clothes, 
and making them last as long as possible. 

.717.. If a child discovers any ingenious turn, by all mean*' 


^courage it :. such as cooslructiDg liUie machines, or toyn, or 
drawing pictures, &c. A great quantity of tbe expensiv* 
wooden toys sold iu toy sbop«, are brought over from Iloi. 
land ; they are called Dutch toys ; ?ery ingenious and pretty 
they are; and I have heard that they are all made by tha 
Dutch children for their own amusemeat; hence there is s 
proverb which says, 

* The children of Holland ta^Ee pleasure in making, 
What the childreii of England take pleasure in breaking.' 

Now I don't grudge the poor Uttle Dutchmen getting rich by 
their play, but I see no reason in the world, why English boys 
and English girls too should not amuse themselves in as pro^ 
fitable a manner. I dare say they are quite as ingenious, if 
they had but the thought to set about it. There have been 
instances of children contriving ingenious little toys by wmy 
ol amusement, who have gone from one step of ingenuity to 
another, until they have made discoveries that have proved of 
essential iiervice to mankind, and have raised themselves to a 
truly respectable station in society. For respectable indeed is 
that individual, who, having struggled with eariy poverty and 
other disadvantages, has by his own merits and exertions ren- 
<Ur«d himself a man of consequence to society ; and honour. 
able indeed is his well^arned competence. Such a man will 
never lose by comparison with an idle dissipated fine gentle* 
man, who does no good in the world, but that of circulating 
through it liclics that lie never earned, and of whom it can 
only be said that his friends were born before him. 

718. But let me make one remark here. If a child shoali 
discover such a turn as I have spoken of, he should at first be 
allowed to follow it only as a recreation^ and required to pur. 
sue his daily duties, and contribute his share towards the sup. 
port of the family the same as the other children. If you gel: 
a notion that your child has a wonderful turn for painting or 
mechanics, and will very likely make his fortune by it, and- 
under that notion you suffer him to neglect common industry 
and application, and to pursue his own bent uncontrolled^ it 
is much more likely that by such a course his fortune will be 
marred instead of made ; ne will soon become tired of applU 
cation even to his favourite pursuit, and unfitted for the com^ 
mon duties of his station ; he will become vain^ indolent, ex. 
tmvagant. and very likely dissipated and vicious. There is 
no class of people less useful, or less respected, than tlae idle, 
half bred, shabby-genteel, who are fairly spoiled for every- 
tiling. Hence the saying of Poor Kichaxd; * A plaughiuaa 


vpQD his legs is higher than a gentleman upon his knees.' 
Do not by any means suffer one of your children to compiaia 
at' being so brouglit up. 

719. But if you see, or thinlc you see any particular indil 
naUon of this kind, encourage it in a proper way. If he does 
veil, reward his good conduct with a tool, or add some, 
thing to his savings for the purchase of a tool, tliat will assist 
his operations; set him upon making something that will be 
useful in the house, or saleable in the market. When he has 
accomplished any thing worth offering, consider of the best 
and likeliest market for disposing of it, and let the produce b^ 
his own, for the purchase of other tools or materials ; if his 
ingenuity diould continue and improye, and his industry 
(Nrove persevering and successful, he may be encouraged io 
save the produce, in the hope of being placed in such a busi^. 
nesB as will give scope ana improvement to his talent! and 
industry. In everv neighbourhood, there may most likely be 
found some sensible and benevolent gentleman, who would be 
pleased to see among his poor neighbours, a child of remark. 
able ability, ingenuity, ana industry, and who would,, if in his 
power. [N'omote the improvement and interest of such a youtlu 
The advice of such a gentleman might prove very beneficial 
lo your child, and I dare say, might be easily obtained. If 
your child has been used to skill and diligence in common 
things, and has only pursued his taste as an amusement^ 
diouki he afterwards have an opportunity of devoting himself 
more entirely to his favourite pursuit, and be successful in it, 
well and good ; but if no such opportunity should offer, no 
great harm is done ; he has still the common resource of la- 
bour (or his living, and his amusement has at least been inno- 
cent and improving* 

720. I wish to caution cotti^e siothers against doing alt 
the work themselves, and not accustoteing their daughters to 
asiust in it. Some motben of a foolishly indulgent turn, do it 
for the sake of upholding their giris in pride and idleness; 
such girls generally turn out good for nothing ; they are ig.. 
norant and indolent ; if they go to service, no family likes to 
be plagued with such girls ; beside, they can scarcely bring 
themselves to submit to the confinement of a steady femily ; 
periiaps they shift from one place to another for a few monUia 
or years, then the3f marry imprudently and wretehedfy, and 
multiply indolence, slatternliness, and misery to another ge^ 
neration ; or peihaps they do worse stilly and settle into a had 
way of living. Another class of mothers suffer themselves «o 
fall into the same error ;. they are notable women^ who really 



lore work ; who woald find it a sacrifice to give up what 
dioy have been accustomed to do, and who say, very traly, 
'nobody can do it to please me so well as myself, and it ia 
twice the trouble to make a child do it than to do it one's self.' 
But such mothers should consider tliat the sacrifice is due to 
dieir children's advantage ; how else are they to be qiMdified 
for sendee, or for managing a cottage of their own P Beside, if 
it is some trouble at first, it will pay well in the end. When 
once you have taught your children, if they are steady, good 
girls, they will be no longer awkward, but really helpful to 
you. It would be a shocking thing that the children of indus- 
trious parents should grow up idle, ignorant,help}ess things, like a 
nest of unfledged birds, that must have all their food brought 
to them, or else perish and die ; but what a comfort it u to se* 
a family growing up industrious, clever, and respectable, and 
to know Uiat if you should become feeble, and past work, they 
are both able and willing to come home, and by tlieir dutiful 
and affectionate services requite your early tenderness and 
kind instruction. I have already alluded to a poor woman 
who was a good manager of her children, par. 469. and I re- 
collect a saying of hers, which had much truth and good sense 
in it, though rather oddly expressed, ' I will teach my girls to 
work, and make them work too, and if there is not enough for 
us all, tkey shall do it, while I sit stiU and count my fin- 

721. In the same manner every other good habit should be 
carefully formed in the parental cottage, that may qualify 
your children first for honest service, and afterwards to ma- 
nage a cottage and provide for a family of their own. And it 
is one great advantage in cultivating a garden, keeping a cow, 
pig, chicken, rabbits, and other animals, and brewing or bak. 
mg at home, that it serves to apprentice the children to ac 
quire useful knowledge. They all learn how to manage a 
garden ; the boys, when big enough, should dig, manure, and 
plant the ground by way of amusement ; and tibe girls shoalo 
attend to the flowers -and so forth : they all learn too, to be 
careful and kind to animals ; and the girls learn to milk, make 
butter, cure bacon, brew, bake, and do many other things, 
which when they go to service, will render their services more 
highly valuable, and entitle them to higher wages. And, (see 
how one thing brings on another,) if these young people are 
frugal as well as clever and industrious, the more Uiey earn the 
more they save ; in the course of a few years, they pcrhaiis 
have accumulated a little capital, which enables them to set 
up in ti-ade. Industry, care, skill, and excellence hi conducting 


their business, lead them on to succeas in it; their children, 
under more favourable circumstances stilly take another rise, 
and by and bye the descendants of the present labourer be^ 
come gentlemen. This is the natural course of things, firon^ 
the bottom to the top of the ladder ; and though thousands of 
labourers and their descendants, continue labourers still, and are 
as such very deserving, respectable and happy; yet, if as 
parents you indulge the very natural wish of seeing your 
children rise in the world, depend upon it, this is the most safe, 
rational, and desirable way of rising ; far better than all the 
idle dreams of educating and dressing your girls like ladies, in 
the hope that some fine gentleman may fall in love with them, 
and such like. These idle dreams always end in di8ap|x>int-. 
ment; often in disgrace, ruin, and wretchedness. To close 
what has been said on this branch of a good education ; it 
'consists in bringing children up to labour with steadiness, 
care, and attention ; to show them how to do as many useful 
things as possible ; and to teach them to do all in the best 
manner ; to set them an example of industry, sobriety, clean, 
liness, and neatness ; to make all tliese so habitual to them, 
that they never shall be liable to fall into the contrary ; to let 
tljem always see a good living proceeding from labour, and 
thus to remove from them the temptation to get at the goods 
of otliers, by violent or fraudulent means, and to keep far 
from their minds all inducements to hypocrisy and deceit.' 

722. Now what shall I say about book learning ^ why I say, 
that properly conducted, it is an excellent thing, and there is 
nothing so good but that it may be rendered evil by abuser 
Taking it only as an amusement, that which books afford, ex- 
eeeds all others that can be enjoyed at the fire-side, by those 
whose days have been laboriously exercised. What can be 
pleasanter for instance, than to read the lives of persons, who 
have added respectability to your own station of life by tlieir 
virtues and good conduct — or to read the history of your own 
country, and see by what means it has risen to its present ex. 
alted situation among the nations ; and how it became pos- 
sessed of, and secured in the liberty and advantages we enjoy — 
or to read the discoveries, plans, and observations of discerning 
and persevering men, especially on subjects connected with 
your own calling P How n ach improvement and real advaiv- 
tage may be thus derived, while you are permitted to share in 
the wisdom and experience of men of all ages, and countries, 
habits and pursuits ! What a pleasure is it, too> in case of long 
confinement by illness or lameness, to have a friend and com- 
panion to .beguile the tedious hours, without hindei*ing anif 


other person from their daily iM>rk ! Riding:, loo, is a <^Mfi 
amaaement ; in most places Uiere are parish or sdbocd IMiraries, 
from which yon may be constantly supplied at a Tery small 
expense, or eren if you diould buy a book now and then, (take 
eare that you lay out your money on what is really worth hav. 
mg,) the expense need not be Tery great, and the pleasurB 
of reading it may be enjoyed oter and over again, by your- 
selves and your children after you. ' There is one toxumb, the 
cheapest in the kingdom, which, whether you seek to be iiu 
terested by the plaiu facts of history, by the most pathetic 
descriptions and situations, or by the most marvellous, and 
even miraculous adventures : whether your taste be for plain 
froae, or the most sublime poetry: whether in your youth 
you search for instructions for obtaining happiness; or in 
your age, solid and essential comfort, this one volume will af-. 
lord it all/ Bnt more will be said of this by and bye. 

723. The point at present is, whether or not your diildren 
■hall be possessed of this source of advantage and pleasure, tlie 
power of reading. Does it admit a question P If you possess 
tile power yourself, it certainly does not; you know from 
your own experience that it t^ a benefit ; and people had bet- 
ter save their breath and their ink, than waste eitiier in telling 
you that learning to read unfits children for performing their 
ordinary duties, and makes them proud and lazy ; that ser. 
vants who can read, are disobedient and saucy; and wives 
who can read, are indolent slatterns ; many more such things 
have been, and Bare said : but you know better than to believe 
them. Learning to know your duty, has not made you dis- 
charge it the woi'se ; being able by reading, to improve your- 
self in the knowledge of your business, whether it be of tlie 
agricultural, manufacturing, or mechanical kind, has not made 
you the more negligent or indolent in attending to it ; reading 
of other countries, laws, and customs, has never made you dis. 
satisfied with home ; no, learning has not spoilt you, and you 
would think yourself a very brute to withhold it irom your 
children, fiut supposing you do not know how to read, what 
must be said then ^ why, tliat you suffer a very great priva 
tion, the extent of which, you are not able to estunate. Od 
many other things you take the testimony of your neighbours ; 
but of whom do you ask it ^ Of those who have had no better 
Importunity than yourself of understanding the matter P or of 
those who have had much experience and success on the sub. 
ject in question. Ask then, those of your neighbours, who 
have had the advantages of early education, whether they would 
recommend you to bellow it uDon vour children* I know 


what answer tbey will make ; unless, indeed, you should hap. 
pen to ask the opinion of some wealthy, but ignorant, narrow, 
grained soul, who can just read (as the saying is) * enough to 
swear by;* he perhaps, will cry down learning, from a sort 
<if cohfused fear, that if it becomes general, nis neighbours 
will be wiser than himself, or they will be able to better them- 
flelves in life, and he shall not get his work done at so easy a 
rate ; he is so selfish that he would keep people in ignorance 
and slavery ail their dayi^, rather than run any possible ha- 
zard of injuring his own beloved interest. He will not believe, 
and does not choose to be convinced, that a poor man's know. 
ledge, comfort, and respectability, are quite consistent with 
the welfare of the higher classes of society, and with his duties 
to them; and he, I doubt not, will say, 'don't have your 
diildren taught, it is only spoiling tliem ;' but his opinion is 
not worth regarding ; ask those who are better informed, and 
who have more liberality and proper feeling — but in fact, you 
need only consult your own observation ; look around your 
Tillage, for the most decent, well furnished, well regulated cot- 
tages, inhabited by the most thriving labourers, the most du. 
liful children, the most civil neighbours; and are they, in 
general, those who are most grossly ignorant, or those who are 
better informed, and able by means of reading, continually to 
add to their stock of information ? I think no more need be 
said, to convince you that one branch of a good education 
ccinsists in your children being taught to read. 

724. But how are we to spare a shilling or two weekly, to 
aend three or four of them to school? and must we give up i}ye 
labour of the elder children, and their assistance in nursing 
the younger ones, to afford them an opportunity of learning to 
read ? 1 do not consider either of these sacrifices to be neces- 
sary, or that they would in many cases be advantageous. 
Children onght to be doing something for their living at pre. 
sent, not merely learning to get their Hving at some future 
time; and as was before observed, they cannot be acquiiing 
any knowledge more important and necessary to then* futuie 
well being, than that practical knowledge which they will gain 
by assisting their parents, in their daily calling, and in tlieir 
varions domestic employments. Yet all these may be at. 
tended to, and their learning need not be neglected. 1 
know some very respectable and intelligent persons, whose 
»*\ly advantage in respect of book learning, has been their con- 
wrant attendance at a Sunday School. There, they were 
thoroughly grounded in the first principles of useful know. 
tedge, under the zealous and disinterested labours of voluntary 


teftchen; tbci^ they were taught to apply their knowledge -I9 
practical purposes ; to the regulation of their temper and con- 
duct in every station and relation of life ; there, the thirst after 
farther acquirements was excited, and perhaps gratified, in Uie 
way of reward for diligence and good conduct^ by allowing 
them access to a select and suitable library, and bestowing 00 
them an hour on a week-day evening for instruction in writing. 
The books they have been allowed to take home, have proved 
interesting and instructive to the parents ; the circumstances of 
the family have been advanced in respectability and comfort ; and 
tliese young persons themselves are making their way in the 
world much to tlieir own credit and advantage, and to the 
heartfelt satisfaction of their benevolent teachers. I do from 
my heart wish that every poor child had as good an educa. 
tion as this. 

726, As to their being sent to a daily school, though iu 
some cases very desirable, I think it in general far less impor. 
tant; it must be regulated by circumstances. If a mother is 
herself a thoroughly good needlewoman, and will bestow tht* 
pains perseveringly to instruct her girls in all that comes with- 
in her own province, with that, and Sunday School learning 
they may do very well. If thei'e is a British or National school in 
the neighbourhood, and she can spare them a year or two foir 
improvement there, making the best of their time at home be. 
tween whiles, she will do well to accept the advantage ; but in 
this case, the girls must be made sensible that a sacrifice is 
made for their e^ood, and that justice to their parents requires 
them to make the best possible use of the instructions afiTorded 
them, and also to render themselves as useful as possible at 
home. This part of their education will, perhaps, be best bfi. 
stowed at about the age of from ten to twelve ; earlier, they 
will scarcely be able properly to value and improve it ; later 
their services cannot and ought not to be spared from the family. 
As boys in general are set to earn something at an earlier age 
than girls, I do not know how it may be best to manage for them 
in this respect. I am persuaded that all the mere day-school learw 
ing they get before eight or nine years of age, is of very Uttle 
account to them afterwai'ds ; that they would gain quite as 
much real knowledge from Sunday School instruction alone, 
and that tlieir time every day, and all day long, would be 
much more profitably spent in acquiring practical skill in ac 
live employments ; mind, I do not say in strolling about with, 
out control, and without any settled object, or allotted task ; 
no, let them by ail means have regular and useful employ, 
ment ; employment of such a kind, that if they have not fiiL 


filled their daily task, the omission must be perceived. After 
the age spoken of, eight or nine years, a boy's services become 
so valuable, that tbey cannot be dispensed with ; well, let him 
continue regularly to attend his Sunday School, diligendy to 
im{H*ove himself at every leisure opportunity through the 
week, perhaps get a little knowledge of writing and cyphering 
^ an evening school^ and at fourteen years of age, he wil] not 
perhaps be found very deficient in comparison with one, who 
has spent all his years up to that period at a day school. Af- 
ter all, the best boon that a school education can confer, is to 
give a child a thirst for improvement, and to put in his power 
the notion and the means of improving himself. In fact, the 
great use of daily schools, is for those children whose parents 
cannot or will not teach them at home what is good, or bestow 
any pains to keep them from what is evil. It will be understood, 
that I am here supposing the parents to be labouring people, 
and die child's prospects to be of the same description. For 
such a sphere, the eaucation here pointed out, will be found 
amply sufficient, and if the boy's abilities, good conduct, and 
opportunities should advance him to a higher sphere, he will 
find himself in possession of a good and respectable founda* 
tion, on which he may through life go on to build with ad. 


On Recreations. 

726. ' Amusement,' says a sensible writer, whose pages have 
already furnished us with several useful hints, ' is as necessary to 
health as labour ;* every bow wants occasional unbending; 
if it be always strained, in time it will start; so, every really 
active and persevering person, requires occasional recreation. 
I cannot help here making one observation ; that those who 
least require or deserve amusement, are in general most eager 
and clamourous in pursuit of it ; those only, whose days are 
days of steady, useful labour, deserve moments of cheerful re* 
creation; he who will not work, has no right to eat, to slefp, 
or to play. If all who had not qualified themselves by di4* 


gent labour ior innooent recrefitkm, were exc«aflcMi fhiia fair< 
race coiuwi, and playhomes^ methioka the crowds would be 
quickly thinned. 

727. Amusement is designed to refresh the body and le. 
emit the animal spirits^ when exhausted by labour: — it it 
different from rest, inasmnch as it supposes some activity of 
body or mind, or both ; — it is different from labour, in that it 
should entertain and engage the iiund without oppressing or 
distracting it ; or give exercise to the body without frttigumg 
it Keep these distinctions in nund, that you may be able to 
judge whether what is proposed to you in the name of amuse, 
meiit, really answers the character. 

728. Amusement, or diversion^ to answer its proper end, 
must be innocent, rational, suitable, and moderate. Under 
wliich of tliese heads will you place the inhuman sport of 
prize fighting P can it be either innocent or rational, for 
two human beini^s to strip and beat each other to pieces ; 
or do tliey quit such amusements, refreshed and better 
fitted for the toils of the morrow ? — ^Can any sport be innocent 
in which a brute creature is wantonly tormented ; or can you 
go to work refreshed and invigorated by hearing its' piercing 
screams, and witnessing its dying agonies? 1 should think not; 
do not let your little children Uien, seek their pleasure in the 
savage amusements of throwing at cocks, or spinning chafers : 
It can do them no good, and if it could, they have no right 
to torment any living creature. — What shall we say of sotting 
at a public house P Is it refreshing to either mind or body ? 
No. f 8 it innocent or rational to drink away your own health, 
your character, your wife's comfort, and your children's main- 
tenance P No ; the public house is not the place to seek inno- 
cent, rational, or suitable amusement; and as for modeitu 
tion it is vain to talk of that ; he who once goes in, never 
knows when he shall get out ; he who ventures in to day, will 
scarcely have the courage to pass the door to morrow, and he 
who b^ns with what is called ' a little drop,' or ' a sober pint,' 
has no security that he shall not go on until he has clothed 
himself and his family in rags, brought his cottage walls to 
nakedness, and all that b^ong to him to beggary and disgrace. 
The public house has been emphatically styled ' the grave ot 
ha]:^iness.' — What shall we say of gambling P Is it innocent to 
try to cheat or ruin your neighbour, or to give him leave to 
ruin Tou P No. Besides, what amusement is there in itP It is 
not an exercise of the body, it is not recreation of the mind , 
but the most laborious and oppressive exertion of the mind 
that a num can engage in ; again what doea it lead to >* ai^ 


there not thousniids vho began with betting a penny, ana 
went on tilJ tliey staked the very bed from under them? Is 
not a gamester generally reduced to poverty and wretched- 
ness^ olten to the most atrocioufe guilt, tieachery, fraud, rob- 
bery, and murder ? By these rules you may try and prove 
what are not good and suitable amusements; and by them 
also you may guide yourself in pursuing such as are. 

729. Your amusement should be adapted to the natui-e of 
your employment through the day. A person who has been 
confined all day in a close room, should seek active recreation 
in die open air. If you are exhausted by toil, choose some 
amusement where skill and dexterity are required rather than 
labour. Shall I propose attention to the lig:hter parts of gar- 
dening, such as transplanting, training, and pruning P Or 
will you amuse yourself by observing the growth, the habits, 
and gambols of some favourite animals ? * But these are only 
work in another shape.' True ; and remember the proverb, 
' Change of work is as good as play.* Never make a toil of 
amusement, but by all means, if you choose, njake an amuse, 
ment of labour ; it is by no means necessary to the rest, either 
of body or mind, tliat it should be sought in something abso. 
iutely useless; on the contrary, there is a very lively pleasure 
arising from the pursuit of something profitable in our mo. 
meuts of leisure and recreation. I don't know any thing that 
con render amusement so truly pleasant and beneficial, as 
when it will bear reflecting on afterwards. The drunkard and 
the gamester must sicken at looking back on their amuse- 
ments. Netting is a very good amusement for one who is 
weary with labour. I don't see why it should be considered 
at all a disgraceful or unmanly employment for a leisure 
hour; nor would it at all spoil it as an amusement in my 
esteem, if the produce should occasionally supply a pair of 
slioes, or some other useful article of family consumption. If 
tt labourer has any mechanical ingenuity, he may very plea, 
santly amuse himself by constructing one little thing or ano- 
ther, useful as household furniture, or even as playthings for 
his children. What can be moi^ pleasant than to have the 
little creatures gathering round to watch its progress, and to 
ask, ' where is this piece to go to, father?' and * what's the 
use of this ?' and ' how are these two to be joined together ?' 1 
have already alluded to reading as a recreation, and I think it 
a particularly delightftil one for a winter evening ; or it will 
afi^ord a pleasant change, if it suits your fancy, to practise a 
little in cyphenng ; you have no great affairs to transact, it is 
true, but it is pleasant to have smsdl ones conducted in a regtu 


lar orderly manner ; and the skill of a ready reckoner is no 
contemptible or useless thing in a family, the comfort of which 
depends very much on fair and prudent calculations, fie 
whose occupations weary his legs and heels, should choose 
such recreations as exercise his arms ; while he whose arms 
are fatigued with wielding the pick.axe, or driving the saw, 
will find his best amusement in ranging the fields; let him 
take one or two of his young ones with him, those wliom the 
mother reports to be most deserving of such indulgence The 
air will refresh and invigorate him, their little prattle wiU 
amuse him, and in answer to their inquiries about the various 
objects that surround them, he may employ his hour of recra- 
ation as much to their real advantage as his hour of most la- 
borious toil. How pleasant will be the recollection, yean 
hence, ' I remember father that at such a spot you first told 
me that an oak sprung frcm a tiny acorn. On such a hill 
you explained to me that the setting sun was not gone to 
rest, but to light the inhabitants of another country.' How 
truly delightful if the parent were a Christian, and it should 
be added, ' and there father you taught me who made the 
sun^ and skies, and trees, and fields ; you told me that He had 
given me a spirit that should outlive them all ; and you taught 
me to kneel and pray, that I might live in His presence.' But I 
am anticipating the subject reserved for my concluding chapter. 
730. Bathing is a recreation, pleasant, refreshing, and highly 
salutary, fit for him who passes a sedentary life, as well as him 
who leads a hfe of labour. By tliis the skin is cleansed from 
hurtful matter which may collect on it, whilst the vessels are 
so strengthened by it, as to be enabled to resist disease. But 
observe that it is recommended for the prevention, not for the 
cure of disease. To a person in health, it will generally prove 
beneficial, if used when the body is neither chilled nor much 
heated ; hut there are so many diseases in which it would be 
highly dangerous, that it should never be practised, excej)t by 
persons in perfect health, without the opinion of a medical 
gentleman that it will be beneficial. I cannot close my list 
of cottage recreations, without naming, as one of the moat 
pleasant, either in a summer arbour, or around a winter fire- 
side, that of cheerful conversation between all the members of 
the family whom the labours of the day have separated. On 
this subject I shall transcribe for your perusal a pa^e from 
an interesting little work to which I have already repeatedly 
referred : " Most of you have children, and if you are not 
devoid of affection for them, pleasures beyond expression will 
be derived from teaching them. 


* Deliji^iitful task ! to rear the tender thought ; 

To teach the young idea how to shoot. 

And pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind.' 

But ^ou may say, that, not having yourself received the ad- 
vantages of education, you can communicate to them but 
little instruction. The instruction I however allude to, is such 
as the most unlearned may communicate. Trace over in 
your memory the various events of your past life; you ^ill 
then see how you failed in your aim to do well, and also, why 
your endeavours sometimes succeeded. Communicate to your 
childrtjj^ the reflections which these observations create. Show 
them the advantages of industry, civility, and sobriety ; let 
them see the necessity and advantage of rendering themselves 
useful to those around them. Place before them, in particu- 
lar^ the policy of such conduct towards their employers ; since 
he who renders himself useful to his employer, becomes neces. 
sary to him ; and creates such attachment of his master, both 
from interest and from respect for his industry, that, if he en- 
gage also his affection by his civility and obligingness, ibe 
most advantageous and profitable consequences may follow 
Point out to Uiem the evils which experience has taught you 
tiie necessity of avoiding. Put aside all false shame — own 
your youthful follies to them. Show them the ill effects 
which followed, and confirm them in the resolution of shun- 
ning similar foibles ; and, on the other hand, hold out to their 
imitation those actions which recollection is delighted in re- 
calling. By this conduct, you will not only lead your chil- 
dren into a love of virtuous and industrious exertions, and 
lake away the necessity of employing that correction which 
may rob you of their love ; but you will actually excite their 
affections, make them love their father as their friend, and 
perhaps secure for yourself in age, that protection from your 
child, which you might otherwise have to seek from a work- 
house. But to be assured of this, teach them to abhor cruelty 
to the brute creation ; since the child who delights to torment 
any iellow.being, may be brought at last to view the sufferings 
of even a parent, with feelings worse than indifference. B« 

' That all the pious duties which we owe 

Our parents, mends, our country, and our Ood ; 

The seeds of every virtue here below 

Fram discipline alone and early lultnte grow.'^" 

VOIaf er*! Friend. 



731.^ few Books particularly suitable for a Coiia^ 


1. The Holy Bible. Of this it is to be wished, that every 
oiie of your childien should possess a copy, to carry out with 
them into the world. It may be obtained at the easy rate o( 
one penny a week. 

2. If you can possibly afford it. The Cottage Bible. TIjis 
is a most excellent exposition of tlie Holy Scriptures, will 
form a handsome and valuable family book, and with care 
may descend uninjured, and prove a blessing to your cliiL 
dren's children. There is nothing looks more respectable in a 
oottage, or is more truly beneficial, than a good and handsome 
Family Bible. This is one of the cheapest and best that has 
been published* It is now complete at £ 2^ but may be pur-^ 
chased in parts Is, each. 

3. Cheap Repository Tracts: by Mrs. Hannah More 
8 vols, bound, price 15s. or 6s. each volume separately. 
They consist chiefly of very interesting and instructive sto. 
ries, and may be read over and ovei* again with pleasure and 
advantage. One volume is more immediately designed for 
Sunday reading, and consists of familiar remarks upon Scrip, 
ture histories, and the great leading ti'Uths of tiie gospel. 
These volumes may be considered as a library of themselvee^ 
I'he family who possesses them need never be at a loss for 

4. Domestic Happiness promoted : by Jonas Hanway, Esq^ 
Price 3«. 

5. The Pilgrim's Progress : by John Bunyan. A very neat 
edition, bound, has lately been published by the Religious 
Tract Society, and may be had for one shilling and eight,. 

6. Robinson Crusoe : — a most entertaining book, and tend* 
ing to sharpen the wits of young people in finding out the way 
to help themselves. There are many editions of this book ; 
a very decent one may be had for three or four shillings. 

7. Lessons for Persons in Humble Life. Price 4s, 6d, bound. 
A very excellent compilation, giving many important lessons 
in religion and morality, and many pleasing examples of good 
and virtuous conduct 


8. Baxter's Christiaa Dictionary, 2^. 

9. Discourses on Eternity : by Rev. Job Orton, Sd, 

10, Baxter's Call to the Unconverted to turn and live^ 1*. 6d. 
. 1 1 . Bickersteth*8 Scripture Help, 5*. Abridged, 6rf. 

12. Bickersteth on Prayer with forms, 2^. Abridged, 6d. 

13. Bickersteth on the Lx>rd*8 Supper, 5s, 

14. Henry's Communicants' Companion, 3*. 

1 5 . Brooks's Precious Remedies against Satan's Devices, Is, 6d. 

16. Mrs. Taylor's Present to a Young Servant, 3«. 6d, 

17. Mrs Trimmer's Servant's Friend,, and The Two Farmers, 
Sd. each, or bound together 1*. 4d. 

18. Dr. Doddridge's Four Sermons to Parents, Is. 

19. Doddridge's Seven Sermons to Young Persons, 1*. 4rf. 

20. Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul, 2s. 

21. The Pocket Prayer Book, 1^. 6d. 

22. Dr. Watts's World to Come. 

23. Christian Biography, 9 vols, each volume di^inct, 4*. 

24. Dr. Watts's Divine Songs for Children, from 2d. to 6rf. 

25. Doddridge's Principles of the Christian Religion. These 
pleasing poems would be the very thing (as well as Dr. Watts's 
Divine Songs) for your little Children to learn by heart ; some* 
thing to stick by tiem as they grow up into life. They were 
taught to our venerable King George III. in his early cliild" 
hood; and though he hved to be an old man, there is good 
reason to believe he never forgot them. Price 2c?. 

26. Burder's Village Sermons, 8 vols. Is. each. 

27. From the publications of the Religious Tract Society, a 
cheap and excellent volume might be selected for the Cottage 
Library. The tracts will not, one with another, coat more 
than a penny each ; you can buy one or two at a time as a 
chance penny comes in, and lay tiiem carefully by till you get 
enough to make a volume; and a choice volume it will be, 
formed by the labours of many wise and good men, and con- 
taining something of almost every kind, for instruction and en- 
tertainment, for youth and age, for sickness and health, for the 
concerns of this life and of another. 

28. Goldsmith's History of England, about 5^, 

29. Goldsmith's Natural History, about 5s. 

30. Bingley's Animal Biography. 

3 1 . Lindley Murray's Power of Religion on the Mind. 

32 . Results of Machinery , or the Working Man's Companion, 1 s. 

33. Library of Useful Knowledge, monthly numbers 6d. each. 

34. Library of Entertaining Knowledge, monthly parts 2s. each. 

35. Of Magazines, or small publications which come out at 
8tat;ed times, die following are most suitable for Cottagers. 


Quarterly Price 4d, — ^TTie Domestic Visitor. 

Monthly Price 6rf.^The Cottager's Monthly Visitor. 

Price Irf. — ^The Tract Magazine. — The Friendly Visitor. — 
The Child's Companion. — The Teacher's Offering. — The Chil- 
dren's Friend. 

N. B. The Christian Gleaner or Domestic Magazine, origi- 
nally published in numbers, is now complete in four volumes. 
IVice lOs. 6d. boards, ISs, half bound. 

732. In fiirmshing this list of books, it \s not intended to 
exclude others which are equally excellent, or to suppose that 
all or most of these can be obtained by cottagers in general. 
The writer of these pages has observed with pleasure among 
the most industrious and respectable of the labouring classes, 
a praiseworthy disposition to collect for themselves a little 
library. This is looked upon as a choice part of the cottage 
wealth, and a valuable and creditable legacy for children's 
children. It has been also observed with regret, that their 
money is often not laid out to the best advantage; that 
through the obtrusive and interested persuasions of travel- 
ling book venders, they are induced to engage in the pur- 
chase of long drawn-out, and expensive number works, which 
after all often prove to be worthless trash, or at best are pur- 
chased at a needlessly expensive rate. In the above list, 
care has been taken to recommend only such works as are 
of known respectability, and which those who purchase will 
not have reason to regret so doing. The price is also pointed 
out, to put persons upon their guard against being drawn in 
to give eight or ten shillings (as is often done) for a work in 
numbers, when the very same thing may be procured for four 
or £ve. Several other little works might have been named 
aB expressly intended for the benefit of cottagers, but being 
produced by the writer of these pages, they cannot with pro- 
priety have a place in this catalogue. 


Good Neighbourhood. 

733. The best enjoyments are to be found at home. Those 
who cannot find their pleasures in the bosom of their family, 
will generally seek elsewhere for them in vain. Still it is a 
{feasant thing to keep up a little friendly intercourse among 
neighbours; the great matter is, properly to regulate it, so 
that it may be really beneficial, not injurious. There is one 
rule which, if attended to, would admirably answer the pur- 
pose ; " Whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you. 


do ye even so unto them." We have claims upon others^ and 
they have claims upon us ; and in every connection and rela. 
lion of ]ife^ if these claims are justly discharged, mutual peace 
and comfort will ensue; hut if either party is unreasonahie 
and unjust in their expectations, or deficient in their returns, 
dissatisfactions and dissensions will he sure to arise. There 
are some things quite inconsistent with good neighbourhood ; 
such, for instance, as grudging a neighbour employment, if he 
chances to be of the same csdling as yourself, or notice and 
assistance from more wealthy neighbours ; as though all his 
advantages and enjoyments were subtracted from your own ; — 
Such as a mischief.making spirit, that would sow dissension in 
families by ill natured reflections and insinuations, or perhaps 
prejudice employers or benefactors against a neighbour, by re. 
pealing to his disadvantage some half forgotten, perhaps half 
untrue story of himself or his connexions; — ^sur*h as a spiteful, 
mischievous, or revengeful spirit ; this has many odious ways 
of manifesting itself; such things have been heard of, as one 
neighbour stuffing cloths into the spout to prevent the rain 
water from running into his neighbour's tub — or laying poison 
for a neighbour's cat — or setting traps for his fowls — or seeing 
the pigs run in and destroy a neigh boui-'s garden in his ab. 
sence, without attempting to drive them out — or encouraging 
children in hatred, malice, and spite against neighbour's chil- 
dren. All these dispositions and practices are foolish as well 
as sinful ; the individual who indulges them cannot be happy 
in his own mind, or beloved by those around him, and sooner 
or later such dispositions bring their own punishment. It 
must be a miserable thing to have conducted oneself in such 
a manner, that no neighbour can be expected to feel interest, 
ed in one's welfare, or to be ready to assist one in time of af- 
fliction ; or even supposmg that pity should get the better of 
anger and resentment, and dispose some person of a better dis. 
position to render the needed assistance, it must be very painful 
and mortifying to feel that we are receiving that to which our 
previous character and conduct had given us no claim. On 
the contrary, how pleasant is it in the time of affliction to be 
surrounded by kind, willing, and grateful friends, anxious to 
return the kindness they have in past times received from us ; 
or even if removed from the circle of those on whom past 
kindness has given us a claim, to find that Providence raises 
up in the time of need, friends to succour those who have to 
the utmost of their ability succoured and befriended otliers 
This has been experienced in numberless instances by indivi- 


duals theinselveii, and even by tlieir children's children. A 
•^ocvi action is never lost. 

734. Good neigbbonrhood does not rec|uire persons to waste 
their o^n and each other's time in idle gosstpping; a cotta. 
ger's wife, and mother of a fam'riy, has no time to spare for 
lolling OTer the hatch, and talking over the affairs of the 
neighbourhood. If this be her practice, her cottage will he 
found very destitute of those comforts which industry and 
thrift aione can supply and preserve. A certain woman car. 
ried a meat pie to the oven, where, falling into conversation 
with the baker's wife, the time slipped away so impercep. 
tibly, while they were discussing who was getting up in the 
world, and who was getting down, who was likely to be mar. 
ried, who was brought. tombed, and who had got a new bon- 
net, &c. that when at length the good woman bethought her- 
self that she must go home and put on her potatoes, ' Stay a 
minute, mistress,' said the baker; ' you may as well take your 
pie with you ; my oven works as fast as your mill.clack.' No 
one was ever the better for such neighbourhood as this ; but 
many a husband has been driven to the public house, many a 
family of children has been ragged, dirty, and neglected, many 
a cottage has presented a picture of misery, in consequence of 
such being the character of the wife, mother, and mistress. 

735. Good neighbourhood does not consist in following the 
bad example of those around us. If a neighbour frequents 
the public house, or breaks the sabbath, or indulges in idle- 
ness and extravagance, and ruins his family, it is no reasoL 
that you should do the same ; and rather than do so, you had 
better bear to be called unneighoourly and precise; indeed, 
much intercourse with such neigiibours cannot be desirable or 
advantageous in any way. 

736. A truly neighbourly disposition, and one that will 
really promote the comfort and usefulness of those who pos. 
sess it, will manifest itself in some such ways as these : by ex. 
changing little services in the way of trade ; by taking care of 
a neighbour's cottage during their absence. Sttp{>ose two 
women in the habit of going oat to work — they may mutually 
befriend each other, if the one who happens to be at home 
takes care of her neighbour's children together with her own, 
and gets a bit of dinner for her husband. The same kindness 
may be exchanged in time of sickness or lying-in. Where 
mutual good will and confidence exists, one neighbour going 
to market, and taking care to make another person's shilling 
go as far as her own, the other may just as well be at home 







earning something, or at any rate taking care of both cottages 
and families. In the same way mothers of famiiies who reckou 
it a privilege to attend the house of God on a sabbath, may 
in turns release each other from the charge of the children, 
and thus both may enjoy many opportunities of receiving 
suitable ii struction and consolation, which would otherwise 
^ have been lost. Children too should be brought up in feel, 
ings and habits of good.will; and instead of thinking it a 
hardship, should be taught to reckon it a pleasure to go oa 
an errand for a neighbour, or mind their child, or sweep a 
I oom, or render any other little service, especially in time oi 
s ckness. The solitude of age and infirmity has often been 
cheered by a well disposed child coming in to afford any little 
service in its power, and to read to the sufferer the Bible and 
ether good books; and the benefit has been mutual; often 
.* nch counsels and instructions have dropped from the lips of 
ege, as have proved of incalculable service in directing and 
establishing the feet of the youthful pilgrim. 

737. Neighbours who are too poor personally to contribute 
to each others relief in time of affliction, may sometimes do 
an essential service, by introducing the case of distress to the 
notice of some benevolent neighbour who has the means of 
assisting ; and such a representation is in general favourably 
received ; good people in every rank of life, love to see the 
J oor willing to assist each other. 

738. I will add one word more ; neighbours may assist each 
ether by imparting of their knowledge and experience. Some 
people have a nasty mean miserly way of pnding themselves 
in knowing how to do things better than their neighbours, yet 
keeping tlieir knowledge a close secret ; and others will make 
ill-natured remarks upon the slatternliness, extravagance, and 
bad management of their neighbours, rather than give a 
friendly word of advice, which might be kindly and thank, 
fully received, and prove the means of rectifying the evils 
alluded to, and of promoting the peace and comfort of the 
family. A good neighbour, without being ostentatious or 
obtrusive, will be glad to make others the better for what 
he knows, and to leave the world wiser than he found it^ 
He will shun the character of a mischief maker, and desire, 
that of a friendly adviser ; and if the occasional moments ot 
leisure which neighbours spend together, be employed in im. 
pardng and receiving useful knowledge, and interchanging 
ihendly actions, the comfort of their respective cottages will 
be essentially promoted, and the face of the neighbourhood 
assume a pleasant and invitins^ aspect 




Conientment and LoyctHy, 

739. There are some people in the world (they must needs 
be of a yery discontented and malignant disposition) who make 
themseWes very busy in endeavouring to persuade all the peo- 
ple about them that they are very much ilLused and very 
misexable. * You are a set of slaves/ say they ; ' you have 
shameful burdens to bear; you have no chance of getting on 
in the world ; it is hardly worth living for the sake of keeping 
yourselves alive ;' and so on. Now there may be some couo. 
tries in the world, I believe there are, in which such language 
might with truth be addressed to the labouring classes ; but 
even there, I can't exactly see what would be tlie use of it I 
can see no pleasure or advantage in continually talking about, 
and poring over, diseases and calamities, unless it be. with the 
hope of curing them ; but be that as it may in other coun. 
tries, I may appeal to * all sensible and just Englishmen,' and 
say, Is it the case herep If a man or woman, while single 
can support themselves by moderate labour, in credit, com« 
fort, and respectability, having their real wants sufficiently 
supplied, being able to lay by a little store for a time of need^ 
and that store being secured to them by the government of 
their country, at a i'air interest, if they choose to accept its 
security, are they to be pitied P Have they any reason to 
complain ? Or can they possibly be weak enough to believe 
those who are wicked enough to try to persuade them so? 
Suppose this man and woman choose to marry ; they labour 
harder, and perhaps live harder than they have been accus. 
tomed to do ; a family cannot be supported and managed at 
the same expense, and with the same exertions, as two singl:: 
people could take care of themselves; but if by their joint ex. 
ertions and frugality, and by making their children industri. 
ous and frugal, they can live well, see their cottage furnished 
and surrounded by comforts, and feel that those comforts aie 
as much secured to them by government, as the king's palace 
01 the lord's estate, have they not every reason in the world 
to be satisfied and cheerful <* If people do not choose to work 
or to save, then they have none but themselves to blame for 
their poverty and misery ; they would be just the same under 
any government, or no government at aU; people who do not 
work, must either starve, beg, or steal ; let tbem choose lot 


tfiemselves which is the most respectable ; and let them grum. 
ble, if they will^ at lying in a hard bed; but let them at tiie 
same time recollect who they have to thank for making it 
And as to those who possess and enjoy the fruits of their in. 
dustry and care^ let them be wise enough to turn a deaf ear 
fo the unreasonable and base suggestions of those who would 
stir them up to discontent. There are burdens and taxes to 
bear ; every body knows this : the king himself knows it, but 
1 look upon it to be out of his power to prevent it; and before 
we murmur at the taxes paid for the support of government, 
let us think a moment, what a situation we should be in, if 
there were no government at all! Men would be like the 
fishes of the sea ; the great would devour the small, and the 
wicked would make a prey of the good. Let us be thankful 
that wc have a government and laws by which our persons 
and properties are protected ; and while we sit under our own 
vine and fig tree, none daring to make us afraid, let us grate. 
flilly say, as I am sure we have good reason to do, " The line* 
are fkllen to me in pleasant places, I have a goodly heritage/' 

* England with all thy faults I love thee still» 
My country !' 



740. And now my friends, having put together a few hmts 
connected with your comforts as cottagers, and the well-being of 
your children, both ^ now, and as they rise up in life, and 
take wing from the parental nest ; — if you were made to live in 
your cottage always, earning, saving, and enjoying the good 
things of which we have been speaking, here I might take my 
leave But you were not brought into this world, merely to 
provide for yourselves home, food, and raiment, and to bring 
up your children in respectability and comfort. No ; all tht«e 
things will soon be done with, all around you is short lived, 
and you yourselves are dying creatures ; every day you see 
or hear of the death of your fellow creatures, and you know 
that your own turn must come. But though you die, you 


are immortal; you must fed and knor that y<m ]iav% 4* 

living soul within ; a most important part of younielf, but quite 

distinct from yoor body. Your body eats, sleeps, moves and 

works, but that within, thinks, and loves, and directs the movfr. 

ments and actions of your body. When your body dies, your 

soul will not die, it wUl live for ever ; there will be no end to 

lis life ; how important to know whether it will live in happL. 

ness or misery ! of how much more consequence this, than 

whether the few years of this life are spent in pain or pleasure, 

plenty or poverty ! *' What shaU it profit a man, if he shall gain 

the whole world, and lose his own soul P or what shall a man give 

in exchange for his soul ? Maik viii. 36, 37. Lose the soul ! 

and is there then, any danger of the soul being lost ? oh yes \ 

the greatest ; — for what does the Bible say ? the Bible, the 

book of God, who knows all things, who governs all things; 

God who cannot lie ^ It says, ** the soul that sinneth it shall 

die." Ezek. xviii. 4. *' Cursed is every one that continueth 

not in all things written in the book of the law to do them," 

Gal. iii. 10. "All have sinned,'' Rom. iii. 23. and ''judgment 

came upon all to condemnation, Rom. v. 18. What liien, must 

all perish, all be lost for ever ? No ; " God so loved the world, 

that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth on 

him should not pensh, but have everlasting life,*' John iii. 16. 

Will all, then be saved, and have everlasting life by him ? No ; 

for all do not believe on him ; they " wiH not come unto him 

that they might have life," John v. 40. and *' he that believeth 

not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth 

on him," John iu. 36. But why will not men believe ? some, be 

cause they will not attend; they aie so taken up with the 

cmngs of this world, that they will not bestow any concern 

upon another. The want of food, and clotliing, and habitation 

aeW^T '^^^f* tliey can see and feel, and will exert them. 

though r'"'^''^^ ^^^ ' ^^^ ^e «>< a°<i ite ^a»ts and dangers, 

fore LfJ^^''^ ^^*"J: important, are out of sight, and th^e. 

sins' thev^'"'^ ^feome will not believe, for love of their 

i«^ ofsinaaV^li T^'^^^^^S would bnng with it; the forsak- 

told by his oht ' ** saving of the soul. As one, on being 

he would cert^^V^**?® *** ^^ ^^^ forsake hi* excesses, or 

%ht,'8o these in J^^ ^^® sight, said, ' then farewell sweet 

give up their sin« T^^* ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ "s put to their choice, to 

and Jose their sou/! f*J® ^®"* souls, or to retam their sms 

J^thers there are, who «.;ii f^^^^ell everlasting salvation !» 

Sv^thr '^^^^^usnesT "tK ^' ^^^^^^^' ^^y ^W «> closely to 
^ ^'«g 8o very bad^ *^7 ^f'^^ot see that they hare done 

' ^ ^^ »^^ woree than thousands around 


them ; ibr what little they bare done amiss^ they cannot think 
that a mercifal God will punish them very severely, especially 
jf they repent and do better for the future ; in fact, tfiey cannot 
belieye themselves to be what the Bible declares tibey are» 
guilty, perishing sinners; and therefore, they will not seek the 
free salvation which it reveals. Thus, in one way or another, 
thousands who read or hear of Jesus Christ, do not believe in 
him, being carried away by the false and foolish devices of 
their own hearts, which are 'Meceitful above all things and 
de^erately wicked,'* 

741. My dear friends, do not be offended if I urge on you 
venous] y to consider, whether or not you believe. P^aps you 
iire ready to reply • 'Yes, certainly, we beUeve in Jesus Christ, 
«nd hope to be saved by him;' then, let me beg you to 
examine what fruits are produced by your faith and hope. 
We read in Scripture of '* faith that works by love,*' Gal. v. 5. 
mid ''hope that maketh not ashamed,** Rom v. 5. having 
which, we " purify ourselves even as our Lord is pure,** 1 John 
iii. 3, We read also, that " faith without works is dead,** James 
ii. 20. If indeed we believe, we shall be disposed to keep ail 
God*s commandments, and to find our happiness in so doino. 
Shall I point you to a few by way of example ? — That m 
which all are comprehended, is, " Thou shalt love the Lord 
thy God with all thine heart, and thou shalt love thy neigh. 
boor as thyself,** Luke x. 27. A person who loves God with 
all his heart, will not engage in any pursuit which is offensive 
to him ; will not be found in any company where God is for- 
gotten, or his name blasphemed. You would not, (would you?) 
choose to go where you would be likely to hear your 
best and dearest friend insulted and defamed! But such 
a person will go where he is likely to meet his friend, he will 
seek oj^rtunities of conversing with him, will rejoice to hear 
€^ himi, to receive a letter from him, and to fulfil any com. 
mands or requests that may be conveyed. Do you love to 
meet God in secret pray^, to pour out your heart before him ; 
M your wants, and sins, and sorrows P—- Do you love to meet 
him in his house, to receive messages and commands from 
hkn ? — Do you rejoice that one day in seven is set apart for 
that express purpose P — Do you hear and read the Scripturei^ 
the letter of your Heavenly Friend ? — And is every line dear, 
and sacred, and authoritative to you? — Do you avoid every 
thing that God*s word declares to be offensive^to himP — And 
do you endeavour to live as he conunands you; "soberly^ 
righteously, and godlv, in this present world,*' Tit. ii. 12. Do 
you re|oice in, and adore die love of God, in providing a 8«^ 


Tioar for ruined man, and do you, vith all your heart stibnut 
to his appointed wi^v of salvation ; trusting in Clirist's blood 
alone for pardon, in his merits alone for acceptance, and in his 
holy Spii'it's influences to make you holy ^ — Do you in all things 
seek the glory of God ^ does your religion go into all you do <* 
does it make you just, upright, and kind in all your dealings 
with men ; conscientious, diligent, and faithful as servants ; af- 
fectionate and forbearing as husband and wife ; obedient as 
children ; and as parents, carefully keeping back your children 
from wickedness, and " training them up in the nurture and ad. 
monition of the Lord ?" Eph. vi. 4. Whatever your worldly 
circumstances are, do you see the hand of God in then^T 
oountiful in giving, kind in withholding «* Do you cordially 
submit yourselves to your heavenly Father's dispensations, and 
wish for no other lot than what he appoints for you ? and do 
vou, amidst all the busy, endearing, trying scenes of this life^ 
hold yourself in readiness for your departure from it, and your 
entrance upon another P — Such as these are the fruits of 
faith ; and the person who does not possess them, has no ri^t 
to suppose that he believes, orSs a partaker of salvation by 
Jesus Christ. Perhaps you may acknowledge that you havr 
not attended to these things quite as much as you ought to have 
done, but you hope little is expected from you who are no 
scholars, and besides, so full) taken up with the concerns of 
your family. If you wei^ to give up all your time to religion, 
fiow would it be possdble for you to get your living and take 
4;are of your children ?* Let me assure you that you are quitt 
deceiving yourselves by such argumt^nts. Your worldly affiiin 
will not excuse you for neglecting religion, nor will they 
serve you instead of religion. Religion is the ''one thing 
needful.^ Whatever else you have, you will want that; and 
whatever else you want, that cannot be done without. Nei* 
ther does religion interfere with your worldly duties, or so take 
up your time and attention as to oblige you to neglect them. 
On the contrary, it requires and ennables you to attend to 
them in the best possible manner, and those who have made 
the experiment can assure you, that both worlds are best 
minded together, and that ''godliness is profitable for all 
things^ having the promise of the life that now is, and of thai 
which is to come/' I Tim. iv. 8. Look back to the chapter 
on Moral Character, and consider how much easier and more ef 
fectually each of those virtues will be exercised by a truly re 
ligious person. What motive to integrity and sincerity, can 
equal this? "Thou God seest me/* Gen. xvi. 13. What can 
ftand against temptatiou ]>Im» this " Ho\* can I do this grmf 

tOJNCLt'SlON, ft23 

wickedness and sin against my God ?*' Gen. xxxi«. 9. Who 
will be so likely to be neek and self.denying^ as the person 
who often studies and endeavours to imitate the character of 
the blessed Jesus^ who was '* meek and lowly of heart/' Matt 
XI. 29. who pleased not himself^ ''who humbled himself/' Phil. ii. 
-S. " who returned not reviluig for reviling, nor threatening for in- 
jury/' 1 Pet. ii. 23. but prayed for his enemies, and forgave hii 
murderers P Luke xxiii. 34. Who is so likely to be a diligent, trus. 
ty, obedient servant, as he who reads the command, and receives 
it into his heart '* Servants, be obedient to your masters. Not 
with eye service, as men pleasers, but as the servants of Christy 
doing the will of God from the heart. Not answering again, 
not purloining, but shewing all good fidelity ; that ye may 
adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things," Eph. vr. 
5^ 6. Titus ii« 9, 10. P Who is so likely to be sober and moder- 
ate in all things, as he who learns from the gospel of the pace 
if God, to deny ungodliness and worldly lust. Tit. ii. 12P So, 
of every other virtue mentioned, we may truly say, that 
^whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, 
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, what- 
soever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good re- 
port ; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise " trU9 
religion teaches us to '* think upon," and to practise ' these 
things." PhU. iv. 8. 

172. Let me say one word more. Perhaps you may be in* 
dined to put off these tilings for the present, and say, ' I manage 
very well without so much religion. I am an industrious, sober 
person, an honest, civil neighbour, a kind partner, a tender 
parent. All these are enough for the present, and what more 
is necessary, I hope it will all come right when the occasion 
requires.' Thousands, who have thus excused and flattered 
themselves, have been called away much earlier than they ex- 
pec ted; often so suddenly as not to allow them even an hour 
in which to repair the neglects of life ; many more, even on 
the bed of death have been still for putting off, and have died 
unawakened from their stupor ; and not a few, who even have 
been brought at last to a serious and earnest desire after tliose 
great blessings, which they had so long despised, have suffered 
the most bitter remorse on account of their past neglects, and 
fearful apprehensions that no hope remained for them, that it 
was too late now. Had you ever witnessed the distress of one 
conscious that all earthly possessions were no longer worth any 
thing to him; awakened to the solemnities and terrors of 
eternity, and yet a stranger to the consolations, supports, and 
prospects of true religion ; — and could you justly compare his 


eaae with that of one who had faithfiilly served God in lifb 
,who had diflchai^i^ed all his common duties under the directions 
•anctionsy and motivea of true religion; whose soul had lon^ 
been committed to the faithful^ gracious hands (^ Jesns, the 
MediaUHT of the new covenant ; whose pains were soodied, 
whose separations were cheered by the consc^ations of the goa. 
pel, and who waited the sunmions ready ^ to depart and to be 
with Christ, which is £ur better:^ — you must be convinced 
which had made the wisest choice. But would you make the 
same choice for yourself? there is the question. If you would 
make it now. These things are certainly taking place in the 
world every day, as surely as if you had seen them yourself; 
and as surely as you neglect religion in health, so surely 
you will find yourself witibout support and consolation in tbs 
hour of fflckness and death. On the other hand» as sorely as 
you give yourself up to the service of God now, so surdy 
will He be your friend and helper, when all other helpers fai 
I do hope you will again look over these hints ; examiaa 
them and see whether they are reasonable and just. Search 
the Scriptures, (I have marked the passages of Scripture re^ 
ferred to, on purpose that you may do so) see whether they 
^gree with what is written for your learning in that blessed 
pook.; if you find they do agree, I hope you will not slight 
them, but pray that they may be deeply impressed upon your 
heart; search then, for farther directions; the Bible will 
richly afford them; and may you be enabled to follow them! 
May true religion direct you in all your ways, sweeten all 
your enjoyments, support you under all your triaL^ and at lest 
conduct vou safcly to an everlasting habitation. 


' XIDENTS, hinto od • 
vantages of early cuUivatiaa of good halite 
Allotment of iucome 
Animals, ok kbkpino 
Anodyne balsam • 

Anxiety hurtful to lying-ia women 
Apoplexy . . 

Apple water 

— — whey . • 


Arrow^root . • 

Asparagus beds • • • 

Attention to religisa urged 
Bacon, of curinf^ 
Bad neighbourhood deprecated 
Barley, boiled 

■ gruel 
— -*— — water 
Bathing . 
Batter pudding 
Bedding • 
Beef- tea . 
Bees, management of 
Bleeding, how to stop 
Blister, to dress with colewort leaves 

, ■ — . with plantain leaves 

Blows, treatment of 
Boils, treatment of 
Books, caotioD on purchasing 
Bowel complaints 

■ in infante 

Bran tea . 

Bread and cheese, not cheap food 

Bread, calculations on making 

■ directions for making 
Bread pudding . • 
Breaking out 

Breaste, management of the 
Brewing utensils 
. calculations on . 

.* directions for • 

Brewis • 

Brooms and brashes 

Brotli ... 

Bndding, or inoculating trees 

Bugs, caution against 

Bums and scalck, treatment of 

Butcher's meat 

Buttsr^ to preserve for winter !»• 

fS, 36. 

128, MO. 


































181, 182 













60, 61, 67-^69 






538, 539 




























, 555-^57 




130, 131 




















Cabbftpe^ best forts of • 
Calves feet broth . • 

Camcniiile tea . • 

Caloiuel piiwder . • 

Cait«»r oil . .• • 

— — to be ^iven to infauts . 

Casks, to cleat. 

Caudle • . . • 

Caution after lyin^ in . 
Cautious against delay • 

Cbafiug ia iufaots, treatmeut of 
Character, importauce of 

formed iu early life 

Cheerfiiloess aod conteatmeut inculcated 

I. auecdote illustrative of 

Cheat, oppresbion of, (iQ iufaut^) 
Chicken broth 
Chilblains • 



Cleanliness • . • 

^— -~- essential to infants 
Clothes on fire, how to extinguish 
Cold, treatment of • 

— inflammatory, in infants • 
Coloured things, to wash 

Conclusion . . • . • 
Consumptive persons, hijnts to 

Contentment and loyalty . » 

Convulsions, treatment of • 


Copper • ... 

Costivenesf in infants . . • 

Cottage Economy (CobW^t's) alluded to 


>■< description of , . , • 

I or TAKING . . • 

* of entering upon . • 

Cottagers encouraged to aspire • 


Cottage library . • 

Cottager's wife, her success in f;^fd«i;iog 

Cough drops . .' • 

Cough, remedies for • • 

Cow, advantages oF keeping • 

Cowff, management of . • 

— — — calculation oo the piodttQt of 
Crittens .... 
Croup, treatment of • . • 

■■ ■ spurious • . • 

Currai^t drink « . . 


















593« 595 







2, 21. 6—8, 32, 33 


9, 10 

d 18 

28, 29 


































578. 579 








4, 46, 47 

35, 55 

65, 121 

65, 20? 

149, 721 








45 --59 

, 27—33 





731, 732 

ff 47 


• . 186 









229, 238 







• 170 





Dairy, management of . • . . 

' vesseU, to wash in cold water 
Dalhy's carmiuatitre, remarks on 
Damp to be avoided - . , 

Discretion . . , 

Dram shops, caution against • 
Drinks for sick persons . • 

Drowning, apparent death occasioned by 
Ducks, management of . • 

Ear-ach . • • * 

Early dawn of character . • 

Economy .... 
Educatiom of children • 

— ' objects of . • 

Eggs in puddings • - • 

— for sick persons • . 

Elder wine 
Electuary, opening . • 

■ - for rheumatism 
Embrocations for a sore throat 

-^— — for the hooping cough 

Emetics . . • 

Eruptions on the skin . • 

Excessive heat to be avoided in a lying4n room 

Exertion u> be avoided bylying-iu women 


Extra gains . . ^ • 

Eyes, to wash dirt or liifie out df . 

Eye-water * ' % • 

Face-ach • . ' • * 

Fainting away . ' . . 

^ences . . ' . ' . 

i«verish complaints, drinks suitable in 

Field work • ' . 

Firing «... 

Fish broth 

Flannels, to wash ~ ' . 

Flower beds, profitable '' • * . 

Fomentations ' . ' . 

Forecast . . ' • , • 

Formation of habits '^ • • 

Fojwls, management of . 

Frugality . 

Fruit trees . • 

---^- to propagate . 


■ 11 I wooden . . 
■■ metal and crockery 
Gambling, caution against 
Gi^rdeniug . . 

■ faints on 

y miscellaneous observatioas on 

>G»rdener's cai eudar 

Gargles ;. . . ^ » 

Geese, management of • 

















16, 49 


36, 37- 
35, 37. 












262— 2f4 









659, 660 













518, 519 




119, 120 


211, 212 

99, 100 

684, 685 





93, 94 



-65, 66, 70 

65, 71—73 





273—4 1 6 



Giii|e«r pop 
Gloucester Jelly ' . 
Goinif out to work 
Good manafemeat • 


Gooseberry and currant plants, .to prune 
I to propagate for sale 

Grafting • . • • • 

Grates « • • • • 

Greasy spots, to remove . ' . • 
Ground rice milk • 

■ -■ paddinf • 

Gruel • • ' • L 

Han^og, apparent death occasioned ny 

Haslet • • . • . 

Headach . • • . • . 

Headstrong young woman, aaeedoteof 
Herb teas . - 

Hog puddings, to make • 
Honey whey or posset 

Hooping cough . • 

Hops, to Jttd^e of . • • 

Hot beds • • • • 

House-cleaning, bints on • 

Hysterics, treatment of • 
Imperial drink • • • 

Importance of a future stata • 
Incomb and expenditurs • 

Industry . • • 

I anecdote of • * . 

. recommended to the husband 

■ — to the yiife 

and forethought promoted 

Indulgence, improper, to be avoided 1^ 
•i«— »-»- lyin^in women 
Infants, os the management or 
Infants, diseases of 
Inflamed wounds, treatnient of ' 
Ingenuity to be encouraged 

— prudence in encouraging 

Ii:\jectious, common 

■ starch and laudanum 
nourishing ' • 


anecdotes illostrativo of 

Ironing . • 

— — — stove • 

iRinglass jelly 
Itch the, treatment of 
Jelly, Glouce8t(>r . 
— - — Isinglass 

with milk 
white calves feet 









143, 146 











39, 40 



»7— 139 




88, 89 










591, 592 



501» 509 
























718, 719 





13— IS 



612, 6 IS 


Keeping account . * « 

Knitting . . • • 

Labouring classes, tbeii comfort desirable 

■ ■ depending on themselves 

■ - ' books written for their use 

Lamp, directions for preparing a 
Lard • • • . 

Larkspurs • • • . 

Laurels, to propagate for sale • 
fixative syrup . . « 

Laying trees • • • 

Leek trees • • 

Lemon whey . • 

Lime, to wash out of the eyes 
Linseed tea . . <, 

Linen, posts for . • « 

<— — — preferable to calico • 

Liquorice tea . . 

Liver and crow 
Lotteries, caution against 
Lying-ill, should be provided for 
Lyino-in-wom£N, hints to 
Lying and pilfering 
Malt, to )uuge of • • 

^— — essence of, for a cold 
Management, good . • 

Manure . • . • 

Mash mallow tea . • • 

Measles, treatment of • • 

Meat pan ado.. • , • 

Medicines . • • 

caution on purchasing 


— • caution on administering 

wholesome and useful 

Moral character . . 

Mothers should accustom their daughter* 
Mucilage of gum arabic • • 

Mustard whey 
Needle- work . • 

New-bom infants, management cf 
Noise, injurious to lying-in women 
Nursing . . • 

Oil and ointment for bruises 
Ointment for chilblains » 

— —— for burn or scald . 

— — — for the piles « 
Onions duck • • • 

tree • • « 

Openine: electuary • • 

Oppression of the chest (infants) 
Orange or lemon drink . • 

— — whey 
Outward medical applications • 






































61, 62 


activity 201 



41, 43 

































68» 69 










107, 108 








139, 140 




84, 91 








Ox cbeek, to stew 



Panada . • • • 


597, 598 

idcd 193 


Partiality betwi^en children to be avoi 

Pawabroken* to be aroidcd • 



Pease soup • • • 


190, 193 

Pie crust, to make • • 



Pig^, food for . • • 



— ^-killini: 



^— meat, bow to manag* • 


143, 144 

Pi^, management of . • 



Pi^^eons, management of • 



Piles, the . • • 



Pinks, how to strike • • 



Pius, bow to stick • • 









Pot liquor 



Poisou, remedies against 



Porridge, milk . 






187, 188 


Poultry .... 



Prudence . . • 









619, 624 

Quarrelling, treatment for • 



Rabbits, management of 




. 117 


Ha«pbenry vinegar 



Reading valuable ac a recreation 



«>> advantages of acquiring the i 

irt of 204 


Recreation needful , , 



•— — — - design of 



- nature of . . 






i07— 211 


Red gum, the . . • 



Relaxed bowels ininTants • 



Removals to be avoidtd . 



Rent . . • • 



Rf>pairs . • . • 

, 25, 27, 29 


Rheumatism . • 





Rhubarb and magnesia , • 



Rice gruel . , • 



, 62 


• 83 


Rickety children trea'.meat or • 

f 173 


Ringworms • • • 




54, 89 

123, 225 

Sago . • n 4 


60r, 601 

— — pudding t • • 




^alts • • • • 

Sal pi ychrest, preparatiou of • 
Sausages, Kppiu^ 
— — OjU'ord • • 

Saviii^ seed • • • 

Scalds, treatmeDt of • * 

Scale of comfort aud respectability 
Scarlet fever, treatment of 
School, Sunday, education valuable 


Scorbutic humoura 


Seeds and roots for sale 

Self denial 

Senna tea 

Shank broth or jelly 

Sheep's head • 

Shoe binding 

Shoes aud other clothinfp 

Sickness . • 

Sickness and accidents, hints om 

I in iufauts 


anecdotes illustrative of 

Sianey on Rural Expenditure, quotatioB 

Snuffles (in iufauts) 

Soap aud caudles 

Sobriety inculcated 

Soda water 

Sore mouth (or thrush) 

tiiroat, remedies for 

Spermaceti mixture for a cough 

Sprains, treatmeut of 


Stewed beef • 

Still born infants, means for their recovery 

Sting, treatment for 

Stitch iu time 


Stores, management of 

Streugtbening medicines 


to be early acquired over 

Suffocation, apparent death occasioned by 

Su^ar, expensive and needless 

Syrup (luxative for children) 

«i. for coughs 

Stubborn disobedience, treatmeut foi 

Tay4or, Mrs. extracts from 

Tea, uses aud disadvantages of 

■ sttt)stitutes for 

tfcachablenfcss • • 

Teething . • 

Thrush (or sore mouth) 

Toa^t and waur • • 
























7, 10 

from 27, 32 


















hildren 194 






7, 27 


























117» 118 

501, 502 












217, 218 















Tooth -acbe • • • 

Tripe liquur 

Turkeys, roana^ment of 

Turnips, flavour prevented in milk aud butter 

Turnip greens, &c. 

VaccinatioD . • • 

Vegetables for sale 

. uot improper for suckliuf women 

Vegetable syrup . • 

Veuemous bite, treatment of 

Vice, caution agaiust 

Villager's Prieod, quotation from 

Vinegar whey • • 

Warm bath recommended 

Washing, taking in 

hints relatire to 

Washington, President, anecdote of 

Water essential 

Weak eyes (in iufanU) treatment of 

Whey .... 

■ ■ white wine • 

Wh'*p grafting 

White emulsion • • 

Whitewash a cottage, recipe for 


Wiue, iu use and abuse in illness 

Worms, treatment fur 
Wounds, treatment of 
Writton n^reeraen^s desirable 



. 146 





260, 261 

i>utter 94 








men 161 
















31, 34 









































I. • . ;. 



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r, ■ 

Eleventh Edition, Price 2s. Sd. 

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** Mrs. Copley's work is what it purports to be — a universal manual 
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